Chapter 23

DAMIEN   

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“I needed you to look into it,” I’d stated, the words a low growl that rumbled with barely contained fury.

A disturbing number of operations had been going sideways lately, and the sheer audacity of the Elvares, those vipers, slithering onto my territory and conducting their dirty business without even a whisper of respect, had my temper flaring.

It hadn’t ended cleanly, not by a long shot.

I’d moved to the far end of the dimly lit study, the heavy curtains drawn tight against the evening.

She hadn’t seen me enter, and the shadows clinging to the corners of the room seemed to swallow my presence whole.

 Frankly, I hadn’t wanted her to see me yet.

I was still wrestling with the image of her, trying to claw her out of the relentless grip she had on my thoughts.

Eighty percent of the time I stepped out of this damn mansion, her face, her scent, a  strange mix of defiance and vulnerability, her infuriating presence haunted my every waking moment.

Not in some soft, romantic way, the kind of sentimental bullshit that made me gag, but in a burning, obsessive need for retribution.

I’d wanted her to pay, to bleed for the sins of her mother, that manipulative bitch who had thought she could play me for a fool and through Leila’s suffering, Mabel, that snake, would finally understand the true meaning of pain.

 I wanted Leila to know the bone-chilling emptiness of having the foundations of her life ripped away, to be utterly, irrevocably alone.

Her pathetic excuse for a father had presented her as a fleshy payment for his mounting debts, hadn’t he? Well, now she would choke on the bitter taste of his weakness.

The heavy oak door creaked open, and Gerald had walked in, his usual stoic mask replaced by a visible fuming anger that mirrored the tempest raging inside me.

“Matteo,” he’d spat out.

No one was to be trusted.

It  was a brutal truth etched into the deepest recesses of my soul, and Matteo’s betrayal was just another jagged shard added to the collection.

I’d always known, deep down, that the rot would come from within my own ranks, from someone I had foolishly allowed into my inner circle.

The day I had feigned leaving to deal with the Elvares’ pathetic little incursion, Leila had behaved strangely.

 Her forced cheerfulness, the way her eyes had darted around, a disquieting feeling had settled like a cold hand in my gut. I’d doubled back, moving with a silence and that’s when she had practically dragged Matteo into her room.

The information, relayed by a guard  who pressed his ear against the thick wood of the door, had been like a rusty blade twisting in my gut.

He’d informed me that she had presented Matteo with a letter.

Later, while she had been indulging in one of her long, languid baths, a maid sent to clean her room had also seen the letter, along with some black roses.

Gerald had been  working tirelessly to gather the information I had tasked him with, and this… this was the worst possible outcome. I had actually harbored a sliver of trust for Matteo, especially considering his impending release, a freedom he wasn’t even aware of yet.

I had even entertained the thought of letting him go, assigning a different guard to her, but he had proven to be… generous with his affections, his loyalty clearly misplaced. And no one, absolutely no one, dared to touch what was mine.

She was my property.

The only things that were to happen to her, the only words she was to hear whispered against her skin, had to come directly from me and the pictures of the letters Gerald had discreetly snapped were something else entirely.

He  had threatened to kill her.

What in the goddamn hell was his motive?

What exactly did that treacherous bastard want from her?

My head throbbed, the pieces of the puzzle swirling in my mind, refusing to align.

Matteo was my most trusted soldier.

I had kept him close, assigned him to guard her, to be my ever-present shadow, my eyes and ears within these gilded cages, and now, the truth which feel ugly and sharp had been revealed.

 He was trying to exact his own twisted revenge on her because I had almost put a bullet between his eyes the day they had planned their pathetic little escape.

He  had been the one on guard duty that night, and their attempt to flee was a direct, stinging insult, a blatant act of defiance that should have been met with immediate and brutal consequences, but I had stayed my hand, merely threatening to spill his blood and this… this was his repayment.

“Where is he currently?” I’d asked, my voice a low, dangerous purr, the deceptive calm before the inevitable storm.

“In his chambers,”

“Get his treacherous ass to the court hall now.”

Gerald had nodded once, a curt as he  moved towards the door, exiting the room he followed behind while the sound of his shoe was so quiet.

Having sleepless nights with one eye perpetually open was the steep price you paid for the life I had carved out for myself, the kind of power I now wielded with an iron fist.

I could barely steal a few hours of restless sleep these days, constantly having to oversee the intricate web of business, the delicate and dangerous dance with the Alvaros which other people come for,  the ever-present specter of betrayal lurking in the shadows.

The  level of suffering you had to be prepared to inflict, the constant vigilance required to survive in this world where trust was a luxury you couldn’t afford…

Leila.

Everything, in some twisted way, always circled back to her, to the complicated mess.

I walked into the court hall, the heavy oak doors groaning shut behind me, sealing us in.

Matteo was already there, sprawled on the cold stone floor, his hands bound tightly behind his back. I could see the raw, animalistic fear contorting his features, the sweat beading on his ashen forehead despite the cool temperature of the cavernous space.

“I’m guessing you have a lot to say,” I’d said, a cruel, predatory smile stretching my lips as I circled him slowly, my polished boots clicking against the stone, the sound amplifying the silence.

My gun rested casually in my hand, the metal gleaming under the harsh glare of the overhead lights.

I’d glanced at Gerald, who stood like a silent sentinel by the massive doors, and I could tell it had been a struggle to bring Matteo here.

The man had finally been forced to confront the stark reality of his actions, the crushing weight of his betrayal finally settling upon him.

Yet, now, as I watched him, he kept a surprisingly neutral expression, almost defiant, his initial terror seemingly replaced by a grim, unsettling resignation.

I guessed his pleas had run dry.

He had been a skinny, wide-eyed kid when he first arrived here, years ago, before I had clawed my way to the power I now commanded. He had actually been the one to train me, pushing me through grueling exercises when I had been a lazy, entitled brat.

But Leila…

She was my sister.

Family, or  maybe, in the dark corners of my mind, I didn’t see her in quite that light anymore.

There was a possessive, twisted desire that had always simmered beneath the surface, a forbidden longing that I tried to keep buried but  we were family, goddammit, and he knew that.

Family shouldn’t betray their own, especially not for some fleeting, desperate infatuation.

“I need her here,” I’d stated to Gerald, my voice leaving no room for argument.

Gerald had nodded once, his expression unreadable, but a light  of understanding in his eyes.

He knew exactly what I meant.

It was time for Leila to witness the consequences of betraying the Alvaros, to see firsthand the brutal price of disloyalty.