Chapter : 2 Damien

The next day begins the same—tiring, boring, long. I used to like this schedule. I built it this way on purpose. If I kept myself busy enough, I wouldn’t have to think about the past… or the regret that comes with it.

But today—

No matter how much work I drown myself in, I can’t focus. I can’t push it away. It sits there. Like a dull ache—no… not dull. Sharp. Persistent. Growing stronger after yesterday’s call. I tried to sleep last night. Sleep never came.

Only flashes.

Broken ones.

Mostly black.

But somewhere in between—

Red.

A knock on the door pulls me out of it. I don’t look up. I don’t need to. Evan. No one else has the courage to walk in like this. No one.

No one knows my origin—but they feel it. It’s an unspoken understanding.

To them, I am something… wrong. Dangerous.

The devil dressed in control.

And I try—God knows I tried—to be the sheep in the suit. But I never am.

Maybe it’s the way I carry myself. Maybe it’s the way I look at people—like I already know how they’ll fail. Even Evan has mentioned it before.

“You seemed a bit disturbed yesterday during the meeting,” he says, stepping in, voice careful but steady.

“So I brought you a summary. You can review what you missed. I’ve also arranged a phone conference and a lunch meeting with—” He keeps going.

Listing. Organizing. Filling the silence. Usually, I like this. Structure. Control. Noise that drowns everything else.

But today—

Every word feels distant.

Pointless.

Because my mind is somewhere else.

April 30th.

 Kings Land.

Her

The moment I get even a sliver of time alone, I pick up my phone. The number sits there.

I’ve been thinking about calling it all day. I do it anyway.

Richard Voss.

My uncle.

The man who runs Kings Land in my absence. My father’s consigliere.

He picks up on the first ring. Of course he does.

“My favorite son,” he says warmly. Too warmly.

“You know I never liked calling you nephew. You’re my son too. I’ve missed you. How are things in LA?”

A smile almost forms. Almost. He plays the role well. Always has. But I’ve never trusted him. Not him. Nor my father.

And I know—he’s never trusted me either. We just… never say it.

When I walked away from the family legacy, he was the happiest man alive. Finally stepping into a place that was never his to begin with.

My brothers?

They would never take it. Not while I’m alive. They know it’s mine. And they would follow me into hell without asking why. That kind of loyalty…

It doesn’t exist with men like my uncle.

We exchange a few empty words before I get to the point.

“I’ve been thinking,” I say, my tone neutral, controlled.

“About expanding my company. Opening a branch in Kings Land.” Silence.

Not long—just enough. Enough to feel it. This isn’t what he wants. If I come back… even partially… it changes things.

It questions his position. His control.

His crown.

Then he speaks again, voice smoother now—but tighter beneath it.

“It’s your parents’ memorial day soon,” he says.

“Nothing would make them happier.” A pause.

“That means you’ll be in town?” There it is. Not a question. A confirmation he wants.

“I guess so,” I reply. Then firmer—more for myself than for him,

“Just for a week. Lucian will be there as well as Ronan. I have things to handle here. I’ll be coming back.”

I don’t mention the proposal. That’s not his to know.

We talk a little longer—business, territory, the usual. He complains about my cousins, calls them incompetent. Says they’ll never reach my level.

For a man like him—No one ever does. Because he’s the only one he believes in. When the call ends, the room feels… heavier.

Quieter.

Like something has already begun. I stare at my phone for a second. Then open our chat.

The three of us. After all these years—it’s still there.

Still active.

Still us.

My fingers hover over the screen for a moment. Then I type.

Message:

Damien: I’m in.

Lucian: …you’re serious?

Damien: Don’t make me repeat it.

Lucian: I’ll take that as a yes.

Lucian: You have no idea what this means.

Ronan: I do.

Damien: Of course you do.

Ronan: Took you long enough.

Damien: Don’t push it.

Lucian: When are you coming?

Damien: Before the 30th. Not staying long.

Ronan: You say that now.

Damien: I mean it.

Ronan: We’ll see.

Lucian: I’ll make the arrangements.

Lucian: And Damien…

Lucian: Thank you.

Damien: Don’t.

Ronan: Kings Land missed you.

Damien: I didn’t miss it.

I lock the phone and set it down.

Kings Land.

I’ve been there before in the last ten years—quietly, unseen. For memorial days. For functions.

But this time…

This time it’s different.

This time—

I’m not going back for the dead. nor for some unwanted parties

I’m going back for my brother.

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