Chapter 24 Damian Comes Home
Xander
Unbelievable!
I glance down at the feisty little creature under me, bringing her wrists up to pin them beside her head. The only thing separating our bodies is the thin blanket and I groan at the memory of how she felt wrapped around me just a few hours ago - it was pure bliss.
She struggles against me, spewing all kinds of curses against me but I don't relent.
"Get off of me, you boulder."
What, really? I throw my head back and let out a loud laugh before I can stop myself.
I still, so does her wiggling stop.
This is the first time I've laughed so genuinely in a very long time.
Clearing my throat, I narrow my eyes. "Were you seriously trying to send me out of my own room?" I inquire, narrowing my eyes.
She scoffs and mutters, "Like I care who's it is."
Then she places her hands on my chest and pushes more firmly this time.
I relent and move out of the bed, allowing her free reign to spring up and run out the door, the blanket trailing on the floor after her. I chuckle.
Now, I can concentrate on the matter at hand which is to find out the bastard who's behind that article, starting with the reporter.
"So I'll be the good cop, you'll be the bad cop. Right?" Max chatters away like we're going to audition for an action movie of sorts. But then, there will be action tonight, that's a promise. Messing with my bride equals messing with me and no one gets away with that.
Max and I approach the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It's an old shaggy building that hasn't been in use for more than a decade now and there's not a single soul in sight but we station two of our men outside, just in case.
A little satisfaction fills me as soon as I set my eyes on the man bound to the floor. His hands are tied behind his back as he sits with his legs to the side of which are also tied together.
His dull brown eyes look around widely under his sandy-blond hair, and as soon as they land on me, he starts to scream but unfortunately for him, he can't.
In front of him with our arms crossed, Max and I tower over him like giants - with bulging biceps and thick builds, either of us can crush this man with just the snap of our fingers.
I reach down to rip the duct tape covering his mouth with more force than necessary. He howls in pain.
He still wears his tag with his name boldly written on it, Alan Parker.
"Why did you do it?" Max cuts to the chase immediately.
"I-I don't k-know what you're talking about," he denies.
Max sighs and rubs his eyelids before squatting down to e at eye level with the man. "We know it was you who wrote that article. Don't bother denying it," he says when Alan starts shaking his head. "Tell us why you did it. Was it money? A promotion? Or what?"
Alan continues to shake and refuses to talk only letting out a quiet whimper. "I don't know anything, please."
Max stands to his feet and steps back. "Over to you," he declares to me.
In two strides I'm in front of Alan and pressing a foot down on his knee until the cap pops. He screams, tears rolling down his face.
"Spill," is the only thing I say before he shouts.
"Okay," he pants. "I-I'll t-talk."
He pauses and my foot presses harder and he wails again. "I did it! I received an anonymous message recently to tarnish your fiancee's image. H-he offered to pay me one million and I needed the money desperately and-and-and–"
"Did you ever meet up with him physically?" I bark
"N-no. We only communicated through the phone. I don't know. I've never seen him, I swear!" he continues, lips wobbling like he's about to cry again.
I reach into his pocket to fish out his phone. I find it unlocked and scoff. What kind of journalist doesn't keep his phone locked?
Scrolling through the chats, I realize the number he had been chatting with is from a burner phone and I confirmed it when I placed a call through, it wasn't reachable.
I pass the phone over to Max. "Run it through the system and see if we can manage to find anything." He nods once and walks off.
"And you." I turn to the whimpering man who tries to scoot backwards but only winces when his wound scrapes on the floor. "are a disgusting piece of shit who deserves to beaten to a pulp."
I mean it. It's a known fact that desperate times require desperate measures but even this is fucking low.
"The next time I find you anywhere, even remotely, near my family, I wouldn't be so generous." My voice carries a heavy note of warning lingering at the back of my throat.
I signal for him to be untied and taken to the nearest hospital. I'm not so evil. He's not the target here which somehow infuriates me further. First it's the runes, now an article. I'm curious to find out what's next.
Max and I leave the warehouse for the other to clean up and that's when I see it.
The flurry of activities at the mansion as the head guard barks orders at his subordinates, the maids and cooks rotating between the kitchen and the dining hall.
Nausea build up in the back of throat but I forcefully push it out.
Getting to the front of the double doors of the Royal Court room, my hands get clammy and I subtly wipe them on my chest, willing my racing heart to remain calm.
Max and I exchange a long glance and a frown settles on his usually mischievous face, then he nods once.
I push the doors open and come face-to-face with the tall, burly, dark haired man sitting at the top head of the long Island table, his presence, a commanding aura and the power of his position.
His eyebrows draw down in a permanent frown and his eyes as dark as the night sky - exactly like mine - look to pierce through me and I try not to shiver under his watchful gaze.
"You're here, Xander."
"Father."
And just like that, Damian Black is back home.