Ryan woke with a start.
The room was still dim, the curtains were drawn against the early morning sun, but there was a man standing at the edge of his bed. He bowed his head, shoulders squared in formal reverence.
"Master," the man said smoothly, his voice a low baritone.
Ryan sat up so fast he almost snapped his neck. Master again? For Christ's sake. He blinked, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and prayed he was still dreaming.
He wasn't.
The man was still there, dressed in a crisp suit with a composure that suggested he'd been waiting for hours.
Ryan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Right. Because apparently I've woken up in some period drama where I'm the lord of the manor."
"Not quite," the man said, straightening. His mouth quirked in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "But I serve you nonetheless. My name is Morgan. I can assist you in preparing for the day. Your board meeting is in less than an hour."
Board meeting. Grotech.
"Oh, fuck," Ryan muttered, falling back against the pillows. For a blissful moment, which he had actually forgotten about the company. The demon business was draining enough as it is. Fists of shadows, blood pacts, contracts written in damned magical ink--but now the very real weight of spreadsheets and shareholder demands came crashing back.
He sat up again, resigned. "Fine. Let's… do the whole morning ritual thing. But don't call me master."
Morgan inclined his head. "As you wish, sir." He didn't sound the least bit convinced.
By the time Ryan made it downstairs, his hair slicked back and dressed in a suit that somehow fit better than anything he'd ever owned, Greta was waiting for him. She stood in the foyer with a tray balanced effortlessly on her palms, steam rising from a pot of coffee and a plate of pastries.
"Breakfast, Master Ryan," she said warmly.
Ryan winced. "Let's ease up on the master, shall we?"
Her smile only widened. She held out the tray as though it contained treasure.
He was already late, the anxiety buzzing at the back of his head like static, but the gesture tugged at something in him. She wasn't just offering food, she was offering care. He gave her an apologetic smile and shook his head.
"I'll come back to it," he promised. "Don't let it get cold."
Her face lit up as though he'd handed her the moon.
In the car, Morgan drove with unnerving precision, his gloved hands steady on the wheel. Ryan slouched in the passenger seat, tugging at his tie as though it might strangle him.
"So," Ryan said, breaking the silence, "you've been… around a while?"
"Since your father's time," Morgan replied. "He saved me when I was a boy. My family was marked by demons, and he cut the bond. I owed him my life. When he passed, the Gentleman became my keeper."
Ryan studied him. "And now me."
Morgan gave the slightest nod. "Now you."
Ryan leaned his head against the glass, watching the city blur past. "What about the Gentleman? Where is he?"
Morgan's expression didn't shift. "I don't know. None of us do. His movements are his own."
Ryan let out a humourless laugh. Of course. The man appears whenever he feels like it, drops riddles like bombs, then vanishes into the ether. Classic.
But any lingering thoughts of shadow pacts and hidden masters vanished as Grotech Tower came into view.
The building rose into the sky like a monument, its sleek lines catching the morning light. Even now, Ryan still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that this belonged to him. This empire of glass and innovation--this was his.
Stepping out of the car, he felt the shift immediately. Heads turned as he walked through the lobby. People whispered, their eyes widening, their posture straightening as if the very air had changed with his presence.
He hated to admit it, but there was a part of him, some deep, buried part that liked it.
When Ryan reached his office, his assistant was already waiting.
She was a striking brunette, her hair perfectly pinned, her navy dress crisp, stiletto heels clicking with professionalism. She didn't bow or call him master, which was already a relief.
"Good morning, Mr Ardyn," she said briskly, holding a tablet in one manicured hand. "The board meeting begins in ten minutes. All partners are in attendance."
Ryan straightened his tie, drawing in a breath. Well yeah, Time to step into yet another role he was hardly prepared for--CEO, wielder of balance sheets, slayer of profit margins.
He smirked faintly, muttering under his breath. "New reaper in town, huh?"
The brunette arched a brow. "Sir?"
"Nothing," Ryan said quickly, shaking it off. "Let's get this over with."
And with that, he pushed open the door to the boardroom, ready to face whatever demons or corporate were waiting inside.