The billionaire's heir didn't come empty-handed...

The Bargain

Vasudeva sighed, turning away. "I have no time for spoiled princes seeking quick fixes. My work is sacred... Transformative."

Damien snapped his fingers.

"I can be quite..."

Two bodyguards hauled in polished mahogany suitcases, cracking them open with a flourish.

"Persuasive."

Gold ingots gleamed under the candlelight

Ancient Buddhist scrolls, their edges frayed with age, their ink still vibrant.

"Holy shit!!"

Vasudeva went very still. Beneath the Guru's disguise, Stefano was basically drooling.

"The Diamond Sutra," the pale albino murmured, his lithe fingers hovering over the delicate parchment. "12th century. Original. Lost during the Mongol invasions."

Damien’s grin was razor-sharp. "I hear you’re a collector."

Vasudeva’s red eyes flicked up, meeting Damien’s.

"You wish to be my disciple?"

Damien exhaled, his facade cracking. "I wish to sleep. To stop dreaming."

For the first time, he sounded human. Indeed this weakness, the fact he was confident enough to show this kind of vulnerability was a major step in the right direction.

Vasudeva smiled.

"Then kneel."

The Hypnotic Unraveling

The pendulum swung.

Back.

Forth.

Damien’s gaze locked onto it, the young man's breathing slowing, his body slackening under Vasudeva’s command.

"You are drowning, Damien," Vasudeva murmured, his low tenor a serpent coiling around his mind. "In money. In power. In nothingness."

Damien’s fingers twitched.

"Show me your nightmares."

And just like that—

They were there.

A penthouse in Monaco. A girl, no older than nineteen, her eyes wide with fear as Damien snortted a line of coke from her trembling ass, his throbbing cock nestled in the pale beauty's tight throat.

"Hmmmph!!"

The way she sobbed.

"Tighten up slut!! I own you now..."

The way he laughed.

Vasudeva’s lips brushed Damien’s ear. "You do not hate the dreams, discepolo. You hate that you enjoy them."

Damien shuddered.

"Nnnghh!!"

He did not deny it.

"O-Ohmygod... I need to report this to-*hmmm!!*-"

Layla gasped, the young maid's hand flying to her mouth.

"Silence," Vasudeva commanded, and her slender body locked in place, her soft contralto stolen.

He turned back to Damien, his pale fingers tracing the heir’s sweat-slicked brow. "You seek absolution? There is none, here... Only surrender."

Damien’s breath came faster.

"Let me in," Vasudeva whispered.

And Damien—

"F-FUCK!!"

Screamed.

The Rebirth

When it was over, Damien lay sprawled on the rug, the young man's chest heaving, his skin glistening with sweat.

Vasudeva watched, the Guru's smile beatific.

"Welcome, discepolo."

Damien lifted his head, a light that wasn't there before shone in his eyes, the dazzling confidence he used to wear on his every move now more subdued.

"Indeed, the true blade only show its sharpness when unsheathed."

Yet the hunger wasn't gone.

"Yes..."

The ambition, the will to power had become even stronger.

"What… did you do to me?" he rasped.

Vasudeva stroked his hair. "I showed you the truth. You are not a man. You are desire. And desire… must be fed."