The sunlight hit just right.
Golden streaks cut through the tall glass windows, sliding over the jet-black fabric of his custom suit, catching the crisp angles of his jawline sharp enough to ruin marriages. It was almost offensive how good he looked—like so teenage girl’s delusional billionaire boyfriend fantasy co to life, except he wasn’t here to love-bomb anyone.
Justin Black didn’t walk.
Nah, this was a goddamn power move.
Slow. Unrushed. asured. Every footstep hit the floor with the kind of rhythm that made people listen. He didn’t need to announce his arrival—his presence did that for him.
Behind him, precisely two steps away, ca the distinct click-clack of heels.
One side—Selena. The kind of woman who could kill with a pen and still look good in court after.
The other—Adams. Recently conquered, newly devoted, walking with the eerie calm of soone who knew exactly what she’d signed up for.
And ahead?
The doors lood, massive and heavy, polished to a mirror sheen. Two guards stood on either side, dressed in tailored security uniforms, their postures rigid, their expressions carved from stone. They weren’t just here for decoration—they were ant to intimidate.
But the second Justin reached them—
They bowed— a fluid, automatic motion—pure, unquestioned submission. The mont stretched, silent yet deafening, before they moved in perfect synchrony, pulling the heavy doors open with reverence.
Inside?
It was packed.
The air buzzed, thick with anticipation. Employees, executives, board mbers—all gathered, all waiting. The hum of quiet conversation died the second he stepped through. The weight of the room shifted.
Justin didn’t stop.
He didn’t glance around, didn’t break stride.
He moved through the stunned silence with the confidence of a king entering his throne room—like he belonged, like he owned every breath in this damn building.
And the room?
Reacted.
First, the won.
A sharp inhale. A choked breath. A subtle tightening of fingers around phones and pens. So sat straighter, so bit their lips, others exchanged quick, wide-eyed glances.
Because Justin Black?
That was a problem.
A dangerous problem.
An Aphrodite’s Favor, was like a custom-coded, world-ending type of problem.
It started with a gasp—one woman, clutching her pearls like she’d just seen an actual deity descend from the heavens. Then another, gripping her coworker’s arm with both hands, shaking her like she was in the middle of a full-blown existential crisis.
"Wait... is that even real? Is he even real?!" Her voice pitched up three octaves, eyes darting between Justin and the ceiling like she was waiting for soone to confirm this wasn’t so shared hallucination.
"I— I think I just got pregnant looking at him," another wheezed, pressing a trembling hand to her stomach. "Like. Immaculate conception. Right here. Right now."
"This is illegal. This has to be illegal," a third whispered, gripping the desk for support. "How are n allowed to look like that?!"
"Unfair. UNFAIR. I demand a refund on my entire existence," soone else cried out, actually throwing her pen across the table like that would fix anything.
A woman in the back, normally unbothered by such things, suddenly had a change of heart. "Unnie, I don’t even like n, but for him?" She exhaled dramatically, flipping her hair back like a tragic K-drama lead. "I’d reconsider my whole life."
And then, the final blow.
"I would literally throw my degree away for him," one of the interns declared with her whole chest. No hesitation. No regret. Just pure, unfiltered conviction. "Right now. Just toss it out the window." She mid the action with a flourish, while the won around her nodded in solemn agreent.
anwhile, in the background, absolute carnage.
Sobody spilled their coffee. Another person was hyperventilating into a folder. A woman literally had to sit down before her knees gave out.
The n?
Yeah, they weren’t as thrilled.
A few scoffs. A tightened jaw here, a furrowed brow there. A couple of guys whispered sothing to each other, but it had that classic "bro, he’s not even all that" energy—forced, bitter.
Except—deep down, they knew.
They could see it.
Feel it.
And the worst part?
They couldn’t refute it.
This teenager was out of the fucking world.
But the board mbers?
They weren’t like the rest of the room.
They weren’t fixated on the dangerously handso young CEO, with the face of a god and the charm of a devil. They were looking at sothing else. Because they had seen it firsthand. The terrifying mind underneath that perfect exterior.
The predator behind the charm.
This wasn’t just so millionaire’s son.
This was a demon in disguise.
Justin ascended the platform with an unshakable presence, each step asured, deliberate, like he had all the ti in the world and not a single person in this room could rush him.
By the ti he reached the center, he didn’t have to clear his throat, didn’t have to raise a hand—hell, he didn’t even have to speak.
He just stood there.
Watching. Taking in the room. The hundreds of people seated before him, the weight of their attention pressing in, the anticipation thick enough to choke.
And yet, Justin?
Unbothered.
He had the aura of soone who had been here before—even though they all knew damn well he hadn’t. The whispers, the hushed giggles from the won, the occasional scoffs from the n—every single sound in the room faded.
Not because he commanded it.
But because his presence did.
Soone coughed into their fist. A few people shifted uncomfortably. More than one person suddenly had the urge to check their posture, straighten their back, readjust their tie. It wasn’t just the drastic shift in power, the overnight transformation from an outsider to the head of the table.
It was how effortless it all seed to him.
And Chloe?
She wasn’t far from the platform, and she could feel it too—the sheer gravity of his presence.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table’s polished surface, her lips pressing together as she took in the boy who now stood at the helm of Black Veil.
This was different. Before, he had been calculating, unpredictable, and sharp. A force to be wary of.
But now?
Now, there was sothing undeniable about him. Sothing that demanded attention, demanded submission. It was like watching the mont a king took his throne. And when he finally spoke, his voice smooth, calmly ruthless, it didn’t feel like a teenager addressing a room full of powerful executives.
It felt like a ruler speaking to his court.
"Let’s keep this short." His voice cut through the silence, each word precise, controlled, and completely sure of itself.
"I’m Justin Black. Your new CEO. And I don’t care how things were done before. I don’t care about tradition, about comfort, or about whatever old-school nonsense was holding this company back. I care about results."
He scanned the room, his gaze lingering just long enough to make people wonder if he was looking directly at them.
"Black Veil is changing." A pause. A shift. So nodded. So held their breath. "Adapt. Or get out of the way."
The weight of the statent pressed into the room, settling into every chair, every stiffened spine, every quiet, unreadable stare.
And in that mont, it was clear.
Justin Black wasn’t just standing at the front of the room.
He owned it.
****
Hehehe ~~ was I too much anywhere? I am just into cliché shit these days.
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