On top of a lonely green hill stood a mansion so grand, so impossibly luxurious, that not even the President of Country S could compare. The Devilson Mansion was a palace of shadows and secrets, wrapped in the illusion of elegance.
And behind those elegant curtains?
A dark empire.
There exists a hidden organization—The Ebon Court. A name spoken only in whispers, if ever spoken at all. They pull the strings of the world from behind the scenes. Nations, markets, wars, military weapons manufacturing, medicine, best doctors in the world, innovation, assassination, politics, and technology—all under their silent grip. They do not fear presidents.
Presidents fear them.
Even the six most powerful global families do not dare to cross paths with the Devilsons—the rulers of this empire.
They do not live in the spotlight.
They live in the shadows.
Boom.
The massive oak doors slammed open.
Niklaus Devilson walked in.
Usually, he strode with the confidence of a storm. Like he could break the earth with a smirk and set fire to the sky just because he was bored.
But today...
He was quiet.
His snow-white hair was tousled, like he'd run his hands through it a hundred times. His lips were slightly parted, and those sharp, mischievous ocean-blue eyes? Gone. Replaced by a dreamy daze, like a boy drunk on a poem.
His mother Elena, who was braiding Rachel's hair on the velvet couch, glanced up.
"I think..." Nik said quietly, like he was in a trance. He walked forward, slow and hypnotized.
Then—he dropped his bag with a loud thump.
"I think I'm in love."
And just like that, he hugged his mother tight, burying his face in her shoulder like a confused puppy.
"...What?" Elena blinked.
Rachel nearly dropped her brush.
Then from the hallway came a wheeze and the sound of socks skidding.
"WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!"
Grandpa Arthur flew in like a missile on a marble floor.
"Say that again! I didn't hear right!"
Nik blinked at him. "Grandpa, you really shouldn't run like that. At your age, your bones might turn into crackers. You might not survive till my wedding."
"YOU BRAT! Don't you curse my joints! Who is the girl?! I want her name, address, blood type!"
"Old man... at least let me meet her properly before you start planning how to brainwash her into siding with you in family arguments."
Arthur waved his phone. "Too late. Already made a PowerPoint."
Nik sighed. "You emotional terrorist."
Rachel was now giggling uncontrollably. "Niiik~ Who is she? Did you talk to her? What's her name? Is she pretty? Is she gonna be my sister-in-law?!"
Nik groaned, ears red. "We didn't even talk."
"WHAT?!" everyone exploded.
"She was in the car next to me at the red light. She turned her head, and I saw her. Long silver hair. Grey eyes. Cold. But so sad. So lonely. It felt like she looked right into my soul."
A heavy silence fell.
Then Arthur sniffed. "Wow. So you're falling for mysterious traffic girls now? What's next, love at first WiFi connection?"
Rachel howled.
From the corner, Robin, Nik's quiet younger brother, muttered without looking up, "At least it wasn't love at first mirror. That would've been worse."
"I don't fall in love with myself!"
Arthur whispered to Rachel, "That's debatable."
Nik threw a pillow. "TRAITOR!"
Then—
The final boss entered.
Lucien Devilson, their father, with his sharp black suit and tea in hand, stepped in.
He stared at the chaos: cushions flying, people screaming, his son in emotional shambles.
"...What happened this time?"
Everyone pointed to Nik.
Nik raised a hand. "Guilty of love, apparently."
Lucien blinked once. "I'm surprised it wasn't guilty of arson. This is... progress."
Elena smiled. "Lucien, your son might finally be in love."
Lucien sipped his tea. "Hopefully she carries tranquilizers. She'll need them."
Dinner was warm and chaotic. Nik and Arthur kept trying to steal food off each other's plates, earning glares from Elena and Grandma Ivy. Robin gave sarcastic commentary. Rachel declared she'd be the maid of honor at a wedding that hadn't even been imagined yet.
After dinner, Nik showered, changed, and lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Only her eyes remained in his mind.
Those grey eyes.
So lonely.
So beautiful.
His hand lifted slowly, like trying to catch the moonlight above.
"If we meet again... I'll never let you go," he whispered.
And with that, he drifted to sleep.