Fated to her

Sebastian Vaelrath sat behind his mahogany desk on the 48th floor of Vale Heights Tower, overlooking the skyline of New City. He was the CEO of Vale Real Estate Company. A demon by night, and a ruthless billionaire businessman by day. He had lived long enough to invest and acquire vast wealth.

In ancient times, he had conquered and ruled, taking many lands and villages under his dominion. He had watched human evolution unfold — from primitive tribes to digital empires. Now, supernaturals ruled the world from beneath, where creatures like him existed only in myth and whispered stories.

In this modern century, he still ruled — but in a more distinguished way.

A light knock on the frosted glass door broke the unwavering silence.

"Mr. Vaelrath," said his assistant, Lena Morales, stepping in with a leather portfolio clutched tightly in her arms. Her heels clicked softly on the marble floor. "You have six emails marked urgent. I've printed and summarized each."

Sebastian rubbed his temples and waved her over. "Go on."

She laid the papers out carefully. "First is from the Cedarsprings project — legal approvals came through for the lakeside villas. Second, the procurement bid from Dawndale — there's a margin discrepancy. Third is the New City property — the developer needs you to finalize the escrow agreement."

She continued, her voice steady, until the sixth file — slightly crumpled at the corner — made her hesitate.

"This one," she said, passing it over, "came late last night. No subject line. Just a brief message: 'Meet me at Fusion Fad, Downtown, at 10 a.m. It's important.'"

Sebastian arched a brow. "Fusion Fad?"

"Yes. It's... not exactly uptown class. One of those trendy downtown restaurants. Odd choice for someone from the Ellisons."

That caught his attention.

Neo's Gallery — the prestigious art institution — had captured his interest ever since attending an auction there. Quietly, the building itself had also been put up for sale. He had loved the art. Paintings held a place in his heart — beautiful on the outside, layered and dark beneath. Just like him.

Victor Ellison was one of his numerous business associates. His daughter had been managing the gallery — up until the sale listing appeared. That's when Sebastian had taken interest.

"And the sender?" he asked.

"No name. Just the gallery's general address. Not from Mr. Ellison's usual email. I flagged it as suspicious."

Sebastian leaned back, thoughtful.

"All right. You can leave."

---

Sebastian Vaelrath was not a man who waited. He was waited for.

And yet, here he was — waiting.

It had been over twenty minutes. He wasn't angry. He was... focused. He had already investigated the message and confirmed who sent it — Victor Ellison's daughter, the gallery manager.

He took a sip of his iced drink. Winter surrounded the city, but he wasn't cold.

He never was.

Heat simmered under his skin — a reminder: he wasn't human.

Then, the door opened.

An elegant woman walked in, poised and composed — until their eyes met. She froze, wide-eyed.

Sebastian was used to this.

He smiled slightly and gestured for her to sit. She did — slowly — clearly distracted. Her gaze locked on him.

He took her in. She was beautiful — not extravagantly so — but striking. Her hazel eyes, almond-shaped, pierced into his with something unreadable. Her long chestnut hair fell in soft waves from her neck to her chest, making him imagine brushing it aside... trailing kisses across her soft skin.

He wondered how her porcelain skin — naturally flushed by the winter air — would feel beneath his touch.

Though modestly dressed, he couldn't stop the thoughts that came to mind. She stirred something in him.

He couldn't look away.

This devilish thought... for this innocent beauty.

His inner beast taunted him, dragging him back to reality.

He cleared his throat when she didn't take his hand. She finally reached for it — and the moment her skin touched his, it struck him like lightning.

A wave of something alive surged through him — warm, electric, real.

For the first time in centuries… he felt something close to peace.

She was the one.

His soulmate.

A pure soul.

---

She stared at him, as if trying to see beneath his skin — to verify what her mind refused to believe. Her face still crimson from the awkward moment they just shared.

"You're that Vaelrath?" she asked, her voice low, almost breathless.

She hadn't known he owned Vale Heights Tower. She had simply sent the email to the address she found in the files she'd stolen from her father's office.

Sebastian Vaelrath — a multi-billionaire, ruthless, feared, and respected. Even mafia dons feared him. His rise to power remained a mystery. Some said he had ties to governments. Others spoke of mythical bargains.

Now, sitting in front of him, she knew.

The air around him screamed power.

Sebastian didn't answer right away. He tilted his head slightly, watching her with something unreadable in his dark eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? Or something deeper?

He looked calm on the outside, but inside... he burned to touch her again.

"The name tends to have that effect," he said calmly.

She blinked, trying to steady her breath.

"I didn't know... I mean, I didn't expect..." she stuttered. Why would someone like him be interested in her father's property?

"You sent the message," he said, gently cutting through her flustered thoughts.

"Did you expect someone else to show up?"

"No," she said quickly. "I just didn't expect to see you."

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. The lighting above them cast soft shadows across his sharp, elegant, dangerous features.

"And now that I'm here," he continued, "you can tell me why you asked for this meeting. I assume it wasn't to talk about my reputation."

She hesitated. She had no plan.

She had assumed — in her head — that she just needed to convince him not to buy the building. Or rather, not to renovate it.

But now, sitting in front of him, she couldn't form the words.

That feeling... that electric pull...

"I wanted to talk about Neo's Gallery," she said carefully. "My father is selling the building to you."

Sebastian nodded once.

"And he sent you to speak on his behalf?"

"No," she said truthfully. "He doesn't know I reached out."

That made Sebastian pause. Interesting.

"You're going behind your father's back to speak to me?" he asked, his tone unreadable.

Her gaze sharpened.

"I'm managing the gallery. He wants to sell it to someone who isn't interested in keeping it. I don't want that."

"You think so?" He raised his brows, surprised.

She hesitated. "You don't strike me as someone who's interested in art," she said bluntly.

For a moment, the air shifted.

Something flickered behind Sebastian's expression. He chuckled softly and took another sip of his cold drink.

"You think so little of me?" he asked softly.

She wasn't sure if she'd said the wrong thing — or if she'd misread him entirely.

What in the world...?

Why is he drinking something cold in this freezing weather? A cup of coffee is what any sane person would take.

"Well," she replied slowly, eyes flickering from his face to the cup he just set down, "if you're interested in the gallery, it's likely for one of two reasons. Either you're drawn to the content, or just the building and its location. For a businessman like you, it's easy to assume the latter."

She paused.

"But then again, maybe I'm wrong. So... I'd like to propose a deal."

That answer silenced him.

Not many people surprised Sebastian.

But she just had.

He straightened, face composed again — but the intensity in his eyes hadn't dulled.

"I'd love to hear it," he said. "But not here. Come to my office on Monday."

A lazy smile played on his lips.

Her lips parted, a small frown forming. "Why not now?"

"Because," he said, standing smoothly, "we've already started something else. And that needs to be sorted first."

"What do you mean... something else?" she asked, her voice unsteady as she rose too — unsure if she was walking into danger… or destiny.

He leaned in slightly, voice low and deliberate.

"You felt it too."

He straightened, looking directly into her eyes.

"Besides," he added leisurely, glancing at his wristwatch, "I have something urgent to attend to."

He walked out, leaving her standing there in shock — unsure whether to trust him.

It's just business, she told herself.

It would give her enough time to prepare.