[13]

"This is for you, Sir Damian." Marcus put a glass of Damian's favorite wine down in front of him. The man's face looked a bit disheveled and more irritating than before.

"What did you call me?" Damian asked, with a hint of sarcasm and a look that seemed to convey his displeasure.

"Why is it that when it's my turn to salute you, you seem to dislike it? Do I look like I'm joking when I call you 'sir'?"

Damian's laughter grew louder as he finished his glass of wine.

"Are you really that thirsty?" Marcus asked, looking surprised. The owner, with his black and silvery hair, looked surprised and frowned. "If you need a drink, I can order one from Gio. It wasn't the wine you finished.  What's so great about drinking wine in one gulp?"

"You're so chatty, Marcus."

Marcus let out a long sigh. He sat down next to Damian. "You know, I'm trying to think about something other than Kenzo's case. It seems like the police aren't much help, then?"

"When did we start depending on the police to do their job?" Damian looked at the rack with its wide selection of wines. The atmosphere here was a bit noisy, but Damian found it surprisingly quiet. The lights flickered to the beat of the lively musical accompaniment provided by the entertainers.

The Catterpilar Club was always busy. The VIP room, which is usually reserved for certain customers, was also fully booked. I have to give Marcus a thumbs-up for how he's handled this place. Even though Marcus sometimes acted in ways that were more annoying than Victor's,

If Victor's demeanor is calm, but when he speaks, it makes others want to leave immediately, unlike Marcus. As soon as he speaks, people are drawn to him, eager to hear his enthusiasm for the topic at hand. But the worst part is that if Marcus's mood was even slightly off, he could turn into someone who desperately wanted to be thrown to another planet.

"The people investigating Kenzo's death haven't got any new leads yet, Damian." Marcus clenched his fists. "As if his death was some kind of warning."

Damian knew where Marcus was going with this, but... "Until we figure out who's responsible, let's stay alert and keep our guard up."

"I see." Marcus took some of the glass. Not only could Damian drink the wine in one gulp, he could do it and was used to it. The taste was fleeting, running down his throat.

Damian, who saw that, couldn't help but shake his head in wonder. "I'm going to make sure Kenzo's death isn't in vain, Marcus. I know how that man is and I know he'll stick by me."

Marcus gave a nod. "I only regret asking him to turn around before we headed to the meeting place."

Damian paused, lost in thought. "Have you looked into it from that angle?"

"I did look into it from that point." Marcus let out another sigh. "Nothing out of the ordinary. The CCTV monitoring around the road Kenzo took also showed nothing unusual until the big truck came along.

And then, out of nowhere, there was a gunshot."

Damian was feeling pretty frustrated, rubbing his temples.

"The only thing I'm still wondering is how that big truck could have driven through a restricted area. Unfortunately, it's up to the police to inspect the truck.

I've asked the Port Authority who the truck belongs to. But there's not a single satisfactory answer."

"I told you not to expect much from the guys in uniform, Marcus. They just aren't very good at their jobs."

"You're talking about me?"

Damian slowly turned his head while Marcus let out a small laugh.

"I think you forgot about the meeting here, Harold."

The guy in the black T-shirt rolled up to the base of his sleeves, his black hair slightly curly with eyes as black as soot and took a seat beside Damian without saying anything. "You're really good at damaging others' reputations, Sawyer."

"I appreciate the kind words, Harold." Damian's wine glass was refilled, giving the man a chance to enjoy the drink a little without having to finish it immediately. "If your visit doesn't yield any results, we'll charge the entire bill to your account."

Harold was taken aback. "I'm just an ordinary officer, while you're a Joker in the guise of a CEO who is revered in almost all business media. Is bankruptcy coming for you tonight?"

Damian had a special code for his involvement in a world that was much darker than night. It's a harsh, unforgiving world. It was a case of life for life. In that world, everything is above board, and Damian is one of the main players in the game of life.

Joker. Is the name given to Damian because of his contribution to so many violations, including international drug trafficking, legal and illegal arms trafficking, and prostitution that is organized in such a way that its workers cannot leave freely? And sometimes it even involves the most gruesome part of the trade—human organs.

"Almost," Damian says with a lighthearted tone. He gives his wine glass a little shake, creating a quiet, seductive ripple, but Damian isn't ready to savor the flavors that greet the tip of his tongue just yet. "How's the investigation going, Officer?"

"Damn it!" Harold exclaimed, but then he laughed. "Kenzo's gunshot wound was in a pretty vital spot. Not just one, but four."

"I know," Damian interjected, glancing away reluctantly. "Other than that, though..."

"Are you one of those people who has no patience?" Harold crossed his arms across his chest. "The projectiles used were decomposed, making them difficult to identify. Two of them were disrupted by Kenzo's collision. One of the bullet wounds went through his back, and the other one required follow-up surgery because the projectile used wasn't metal-detectable."

"A really skilled sniper," Damian said, taking a sip of wine. This time, he took a slower sip, letting the flavor of the wine wash over his mouth. "That penetrating wound left a trace, Harold. What kind of weapon was used?"

"It was a Glock seven, Damian."

Instantly, Damian stopped what he was doing. Damian found it tricky to just turn his head to the informant. "No kidding, Harold!" Damian replied, a little impatiently. He dropped his glass and grabbed the other man's T-shirt.

"Am I supposed to be joking?"

***

"I didn't expect to see you until later in the day." Victor gave a little smile. His hands were making a treat for the middle-aged woman who was staring at him with a look that seemed to say, "What are you doing here?" Facing the Sawyer family, who were known to be slow to smile and talk, Victor was well-versed in their ways.

"I don't need your pleasantries, Victor." Hera was keeping an eye on the dark-brown-haired man. He seemed too calm, his smile ordinary, and his tone unflappable. Maybe it was because he was used to dealing with his son, who was far more annoying? Hera wasn't sure. But one thing was for sure: Hera's visit to Hillarious University wasn't a waste of time. She came away with answers.

She needed to find out where her son was and get some news. She'd even tried calling earlier, but the person who answered was short with her. Hera was really upset about it. Didn't Damian realize they were in danger if they didn't act soon? Looking after Leonard was really taking it out of Hera. She felt like she'd aged ten years when she thought about everything related to Leonard and Damian.

"Please, Mrs. Hera." Victor didn't let Damian's mother's cynical and unfriendly attitude get to him. The middle-aged woman was more senior than Damian, but not a top priority for Victor. The man with hazel eyes was devoted to Damian Sawyer's life. He'd sworn to die for him.

"This rose tea might help calm your anger."

Hera let out a little chuckle. "Do you know why I'm angry, right?"

"Just guessing, ma'am. You wouldn't have come to my office for nothing."

"If you know, please tell me what I need to know." Hera still looked as cynical and stern as ever.

Victor smiled again. "When it comes to Mr. Damian, please forgive me. I have no idea where he is."

"You're not great at lying to me." Hera's eyes narrowed as she looked at him suspiciously. "You're my son's closest confidant, Victor." She took a deep breath. It didn't seem like pressuring Victor like this was going to work. If he could just lose a little of his selfishness, we'd be good to go. So that's how Hera started trying to get Victor to open up.

The woman looked down; her expression sad. Even her eyes, which had been staring unfriendly, soon turned glassy. Hera was on the verge of tears. It didn't matter that there was a bit of drama; Hera was just trying to find out where Damian was.

"You know, Victor," Hera said, her voice a little shaky. "Leonard is making his move and threatening to find out where Damian is. You wouldn't want to find Damian stripped of everything he has, would you?"

Victor knew what Hera Sawyer was feeling all too well. He got why the woman who was Damian's biological mother was worried about her son, even if she could be a bit annoying when she spoke. However, there is one thing Victor should mention.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hera. Mr. Damian knows best how to protect what he already has. You don't need to worry. I can't tell you where he is, but there's one thing you should know." Victor straightened his back slightly and stared at his interlocutor. His brown eyes gave a hint of intimidation, making it clear that his words were not to be taken lightly.

"Mr. Damian would never allow Leonard Sawyer, your younger brother, to do as he pleases. Mr. Damian, if I may say so myself, is very similar to Mr. Robert. Could you please calm down?"