A Deal With The Vampire CEO

One hundred days. That’s all Yvette Moreno has to survive. After a scandal shatters her career and lands her in legal trouble, Yvette is desperate for a way out. Enter Joachim Knight—Manhattan’s most powerful billionaire lawyer, a man whose charm is as lethal...

Chapter 1 The Wrong Date

“Aunt Anna, this is all your fault,” I said, slapping my temples. My blind date was sitting at the far end waiting for me like he was the Grim Reaper.

I didn't need a seer to tell me that this date would be the perfect description of ruin. The place looked so fancy, it seemed to have a secret rule about having a Lamborghini packed somewhere before you had to step in.

The air smelled of truffle oil and something else that would pay for my house rent in six months, and the lighting made everything feel like it was from one of those romantic dramas which I hated.

Then I saw him.

Joachim Knight. Cold-hearted, popular billionaire lawyer in Manhattan and, supposedly, my blind date for the evening. My stomach twisted. Of all the people my family could have set me up with, it had to be him — the same man I had been secretly taking his photos and selling online.

Yes, I was the Woodsman, the secret paparazzo who had a knack for taking celebrities' photos when they least expected it.

I couldn’t believe he was my date. I had gotten myself into so many scandals with actors and actresses in the past, but this was trouble in every form.

He sat at the table, wearing an impeccably charcoal black customized suit and a look of boredom on his face.

“You are late,” he said. His voice was not just cold; it was unnaturally still, with an absence of warmth so profound it felt ancient.

His voice oozed arrogance like honey, thick and unbothered.

I rolled my eyes. “ Sorry, your majesty.”

He raised an eyebrow, easily unimpressed, his eyes sizing me up.

I couldn't blame him, I was wearing a ‘borrowed’ dress from Aunt Anna. I don't know where she bought her dresses from, but I look like an eighteenth century time traveler.

I sat down across from him, my heart pounding. It wasn’t because he was handsome and popular. Far from that, my heart was hammering because I was about to spend an entire evening with the man I had been stalking and selling his photos.

How was I supposed to pretend that I didn’t know exactly who he was?

The waiter arrived. He glanced from me to Joachim, also back to me. I was quite sure he was trying to understand if we had both lost our way.

"Good evening, Sir, Ma'am," the waiter said nervously, easily picking up on the awkwardness in the air." May I take your orders?"

Joachim didn’t even look up from his phone, his jaw set. The restaurant was an assault of competing scents—truffle oil, cloying perfume, simmering sauces—and he seemed to be building a wall around himself to keep it all out.

I bit my lower lip, tapping my fingers nervously against the table. The silence stretched on longer than I wanted to admit.

Eventually, he put the phone down just long enough to stare at the menu." I’ll have the steak," he said flatly, without even asking what I cared for.

I shook my head and turned to the waiter.

“I think french fries —”

But he wouldn't let me finish as he snorted, making the waiter jump.

“French what?” He asked, staring at me like I had ordered a plate of deeply fried cockroaches. “If you want French fries why did we come here?” He began to scroll through his phone again. “Seems Coq au Vin is a joke to you.”

He had really embarrassed me in front of the waiter, and I was sure the next time I came here— if there would be one next— the waiter would never take me seriously.

“Mind your business.” I retorted.

But he didn't say anything and I turned to the waiter, suddenly losing my appetite.

“Just get me anything.”

He chortled audibly, and I swear, I could feel the temperature drop by five degrees.

" Don't let peer pressure force you into what you don't want to eat, Yvette," he said, using my name for the first time that evening." I’d rather not waste my money.”

I bit my lower lip, trying to suppress the appetite to retort, but before I could, the waiter was back, looking like he was about to enter the ring for a boxing match.

“ Has anyone decided? ” he asked, glancing nervously between us, maybe hoping we weren’t about to launch into World War III over our orders.

I glanced at Joachim, also back at the server." We’ll both have the steak," I said snappily, realizing that neither of us was going to get anything we actually wanted.

Joachim looked like he wanted to say something — likely another snarky comment about my“ low norms” — but before he could, the waiter gave a relieved nod and danced down to put in the order.

For a moment, silence fell between us, thick and awkward. I hated every nanosecond of it.

I cleared my throat, trying to break it.

" So, any big cases recently, or is it all just?

‘Counsel stuff’ to you? ”

Joachim didn’t even look up from his phone." I don’t talk about work on dates."

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might hit each other.

" Oh, so now I’m a ‘date.’ I should have known it was you from the start.”

He eventually looked up from his phone, his expression unreadable." Can you just stop talking, it's called a blind date for a reason.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head.

In all my years of going on dates, this was so far the worst. It looked like I was in hell already.

We sat in silence for another awkward moment before the waiter returned with our food. The steak looked fine. Not that I cared. I wasn’t here for food; I was here because I was supposed to enjoy the New Year celebration like every normal person, but I'm here at 7:00 pm stuck with this perfect devil for the rest of the evening.

In minutes, the waiter arrived with our orders and also a bottle of wine. I stole glances at him, hoping nothing seemed off about me and, with the way he was scrolling through his phone, he shouldn't find out that I was The Woodsman.

Joachim didn’t even look up from his phone, his jaw set. The restaurant was an assault of competing scents—truffle oil, cloying perfume, simmering sauces—and he seemed to be building a wall around himself to keep it all out.

Damn.

And just as he picked up the wine glass, it stopped close to his lips and he gave me a hard look.

“I should have known,” he said as he stared at me like I had stolen his wallet.

My fork fell onto the plate and my stomach dropped. Did he recognize me?

Yvette, you are ruined. I whispered to myself.

Chapter 2 The Paparazzo

When Joachim slid his phone across the table to me with those harsh words,

“ I should have known.”

My heart skipped a beat. My stomach dropped. Had he found out that I was The Woodsman? If he finds out, I am doomed. This was the worst date ever. I should have objected when the idea was brought up, and now I am sitting here like a bereaved prisoner hoping it shouldn't be what I'm thinking.

This is all your fault, Aunt Anna. I cursed under my breath as I swallowed my saliva, and then it happened before I could stop myself. My mouth refused to cooperate with my mind and I began to ramble like I was possessed m

“It's not what you think,” I blurted out. “I'm not that kind of person. I'm a star agent, you know…” I said, swallowing hard. “Working with actors, and you see this date thing, it was completely my aunt's idea.”

I was rambling. I could feel the words piling up before I could stop them, but I couldn’t help myself. I was dead broke and getting into another scandal wasn't something I wanted.

“ I mean, I love reading law books, okay?" I’m not a bad person, I swear,” I continued, standing up suddenly. My legs felt shaky." I just —" I cut myself off, hands shaking as I wiped them on my dress.

I felt the need to leave, to escape, before he could say anything.

Good heavens, not now.

But just as I snatched my bag and made a quick exit, I realized something that made me look stupid.

Joachim was just staring at me. No words, nothing just staring at me.

The silence stretched on long enough to make me second-guess everything and to my surprise, he didn’t say anything cruel.

He simply slid his phone across the table to me, the same phone that had been brewing in the air like a bad omen.

With shaky fingers, I hesitated before picking it up. My breath hitched when I saw the videotape on his screen.

There, in a blog, was a clip of me in a heated argument with none other than Tessa Miller, a popular actress known for her part in that big-budget action film everyone was obsessed with last summer.

I had no idea how that video had made it online. But then it was, in full view, with me looking ridiculously awkward and hopeless to escape the scene.

I felt my face flush with heat as the memories of that day came rushing back, the actress had been rude, making snide reflections about the way I looked.

And I, being the professional that I am, had snapped back, and we ended up in a public exchange of words, and she had slapped me, huge public humiliation.

The videotape went viral, and my name was all over the tabloids. But now, on Joachim’s phone, the embarrassment was unstoppable.

I exhaled, a mixture of shame and relief surging through me.

Shame because the videotape had spread like a campfire, and now Joachim saw me in the worst possible light. I'm quite sure he must hate me by now, and I freaking do too.

Such a proud lawyer with his stupid blue eyes.

Relief, because he didn't find out that I was The Woodsman.

And would I stop after having almost been caught?

Hell No.

I swallowed hard, feeling my heart beat become normal again. The weight of the moment eventually lifted, but Joachim wasn’t done with me yet.

With a sarcastic grin, he looked at me like I was something he’d rather not deal with. He shook his head, already writing me off.

He gave me the dirtiest look ever and a look that said a thousand words, particularly, Is- this-how- you - want - to - live-your - life?

“ Well, well. What’s this? "The best star agent herself,” he said, his words dripping with amusement.

I swallowed hard and started looking at the window panes like I was deaf.

I almost shrank. I mean I was just hoping, waiting for the ground to open and swallow me, like some abracadabra should just happen.

All of my life, every bloody second of existing, I had never felt so embarrassed before.

Damn Tessa Miller, damn the agency and damn this wicked man posing as my date.

I must say, I really undervalued you. I thought I was on a date with someone who at least had half a brain. But, I guess I was wrong.

I couldn’t stop the sharp retort that slipped out of my mouth.

“ Oh, spare me, Mr". Knight. “

He lifted his brows, surprised.

“You shouldn't judge me and that was none of your business,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “You have no right to poke your nose in my private life.”

His eyes narrowed as he smirked.

“Private life indeed. You are already making waves with that video. You had better quit your job and focus more on being on more scandals. Who knows, one might drag you into trouble, and you will need my help.

I didn't know why that felt like it was true. Never.

I would rather live in the desert than accept his help.

“If I die today, there is something I will always regret, even in my next life,” I said to him, my voice breaking.

“Which is it?” He grinned, and I swear he looked so handsome, but who cares when he has a degree at being so annoying.

“I know it's because you don't want me to have this meal in peace now, you won't have it to yourself, glutton.” I shot back at him. “I hope you remain single for the rest of your life.” I said and threw the serviette

At his face and before he could remove it from his face, I did one thing. I gulped down the two glasses of wine and ran out.

Chapter 3 Second Class Lawyer

Joachim's pov.

The phone call ended, and I sat in silence for a moment, letting Delilah’s words settle in my gut.

“Do you know any other lawyer who could handle my case better? ” she had asked so politely it nearly sounded like a warning.

I rubbed my temples, pushing down the frustration. The last thing I needed right now was to feel second-rate. I was supposed to be the best at what I did.

My track record has made me a name in the legal world. But after the new judge, Maxwell Lark, took over for the former one, things changed.

I’d become the lawyer who couldn't file a case, no matter how hard I tried. Always second, never first.

And Delilah — she was starting to notice. She was looking at other attorneys now. And that hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Frankly speaking, the question had pierced my heart like an arrow.

And why wouldn’t she doubt me? Recently, I've come second in every major case. It wasn’t just the press that had it out for me, Maxwell Lark, too, just because of a ruined relationship. He'd seen me as a playboy, and it seemed like he had sworn on his grandparents' grave that I would never win a case.

I drained the rest of the red liquid in the glass and poured a fresh one and stared at the blank screen in front of me. Another failed case. Another chance at redemption slipping through my fingers.

I had done everything right, fought tooth and nail and yet — second again. That look Lark had given me as the verdict came in was etched in my memory.

I wasn’t just losing cases. I was losing myself.

The headlines didn’t help.

>Joachim Knight Comes Second Again.<

That was one.

Another said,

> Lawyer Accused of Being A Playboy Rather Than Professional.<

That one made me want to throw my laptop out the window.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had to do something about this playboy thing that was starting to run off.

Get into a relationship and look like the perfect lawyer before everyone.

But with whom?

I went back to my previous relationships. Carmen, Maya, Carla — successful, important women. I’d been with all of them at one point. None of them had ever really been“ the one," they were there for the money.

And I realized something I had been denying for a long time. Perhaps the reason I’d never felt truly emotionally connected to any of them was because I didn't feel a thing for them. If there was love, I wouldn't have been sent to my grandmother when my parents divorced when I was just three. But that was years and years and years ago.

I hadn’t really let myself admit that part of me, the part of me that was different.

The part of me that saw nothing in love.

I’d hidden that part of me down for so long, buried it under the skin of this polished, perfect lawyer persona. But now? The weight of it pressed on me harder than ever.

I was something only tabloids talked about and that was my last relationship, which was a total failure.

The thing was, being the kind of lawyer I was in the human world was tricky. Being a vampire was the trickiest.

Being 570 years old and looking 35 was also tricky.

The need to vanish was a constant, eating me up because I knew I had stayed here for far too long.

It wasn’t just about magnets or chemistry. It was something deeper — something I couldn’t escape.

And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew I’d never truly feel complete until I met the one I'm destined to love.

But I couldn’t risk letting anyone know what I was.

People wouldn’t understand. Hell, I might even look like a clown.

And that was when it came flowing back. Yvette Moreno, yes, that was her name.

I drained the rest of the viscous, crimson liquid in the glass... Her scent had hit me like a freight train the moment she walked in. Not just her perfume, but the warm, coppery tang of the blood humming just beneath her skin. A wild, intoxicating scent.

She was trouble.

I shook my head. Not her.

And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew that after centuries of hollow connections, a part of me would always be empty until I found someone worth the immense risk of feeling something real again.

But as I stared at her picture on my screen, I couldn’t help but wonder. Was this fate knocking at my door?

Thinking about it made me feel stupid. Of all the women I had met, it had to be Yvette?

I closed my eyes, trying to shake off the feeling.

But then, my phone buzzed again. I glanced at the screen.

>Yvette Moreno in Trouble Again. Tessa Miller Sues Her for Leaking Her Photos<

I exhaled.

It wasn’t a surprise. Yvette was always in the headlines for something but then something else began to make sense in my mind. An idea and a beautiful one.

I poured the third glass and gulped down everything in the cup and a thin smile spread across my lips. I loved how the idea was taking shape in my head.

To show the world—and more importantly, Judge Maxwell Lark—that I wasn't the shallow playboy he'd judged me to be. I needed to project stability. Perhaps Yvette, with all her chaotic media attention, was the perfect counter move. A public relationship with her wouldn't just be a distraction; it would be a strategic assault on the very image Lark despised.

I almost clapped my hands in joy. This was just the perfect idea. There was nothing much to do anymore, just sit back, relax and watch how everything would fall into place.

Yvette Moreno.

I wasn't doing this because I felt happy, just because I wanted Yvette Moreno to be free, she hated me and the feeling was mutual.

I just needed to be back to being the renowned lawyer who never lost a case. And maybe, just maybe, one day, I will have to write a book about this.

I laughed at the thought.

I glanced back at my phone and hit the call button. Delilah’s name flashed on the screen. I had to put something in place.

Everything had to be perfect, so that she had to believe me and accept her, and maybe, just maybe, I had told Judge Maxwell Lark that he was picking on the wrong person.

" Ms Delilah," I said, my voice smooth and confident.

I’ve been thinking about your case. And I suppose I know how we can win this.

And as I heard her shriek at the other end of the line, I knew something was cooking.