Chapter 34

Damian’s POV

Alex’s laughter echoed long after he left the building, the sound clinging to me like smoke I couldn’t shake off. I sat in my office chair, elbows resting on the polished wood desk, and tried to steady my breathing. My brother had always known how to get under my skin—he didn’t even have to try. Just showing up unannounced was enough to unravel the fragile calm I’d managed to build these last few months.

Of course, Mother had orchestrated it. She always did. Her fingerprints were all over Alex’s sudden reappearance, and the smug grin on his face as he’d leaned back in the chair across from me earlier made it clear he relished being her chosen pawn.

“Still trying to play father’s favorite, Damian?” Alex had asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I clenched my jaw, replaying the exchange like a reel I couldn’t turn off.

“Funny,” I’d countered, “I don’t recall father ever having favorites. He respected results, not excuses.”

That had hit a nerve, the way his smirk faltered before returning sharper, meaner. “Results? Or manipulation dressed up as leadership? Tell me, little brother, do you really believe you earned all of this?” He’d gestured to my office, the company, the empire father left behind. You think father chose you because you’re better, Damian? No. He chose you because you were easier to control.”

“Call it what you want,” I’d told him then. “But I’m the one keeping our father’s legacy alive, not you.”

I gritted my teeth, staring at the skyline beyond the glass wall. The city stretched endlessly, lights burning into the night, each one a reminder of the empire I was holding together with blood and bone. Alex could sneer all he wanted—he didn’t know what it took to keep this place running.

The memory made my blood heat. Alex had always believed I’d been handed everything. What he never understood—what he still refused to understand—was how much of myself I had to bury to keep this machine running. The long nights, the sacrifices, the way I learned to read a room before I was old enough to drive.

“I built this,” I muttered now, the words harsher in the silence. “You only show up when it’s convenient to remind everyone you share the last name.”

The bitterness in my voice startled even me. I leaned back, pinching the bridge of my nose. Alex wasn’t just back—he was here to stay. That meant two things: headaches, and messes to clean up.

And that was the truth.

He didn’t have the patience, the foresight. He’d always been reckless. Even when we were kids, Alex burned too fast, too bright—always drawing attention but never understanding how to hold onto it. I’d learned early that it wasn’t enough to shine; you had to build something no one could tear down.

But now he was back.

And that meant my balance—the one I’d fought for, sacrificed for—was shifting again.

A knock rattled the door before I could sink too far into the spiral. Sharp, insistent.

“Not now,” I barked.

The door opened anyway.

“Good to see nothing’s changed,” Julian’s cool voice cut through my irritation as he stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

I exhaled sharply. “Julian. Hell, I thought you were someone else. Forget it. What’ve you got?”

“You sounded like you were about to tear the head off whoever dared disturb you,” he said with a faint grin, pulling up a chair. “Lucky for me, I’ve had practice surviving your moods.”

I gave him a long look, then sighed, letting my shoulders drop. “You’re not wrong.”

He crossed the room, calm and deliberate, and placed a folder on my desk. “Boston.”

My jaw tightened. “Tell me.”

Julian leaned back in the chair opposite me, folding his arms. “We intercepted account activity last night. Someone’s been bleeding money out of the pipeline. I traced it back, and you’re not going to like the name attached.”

The muscles in my jaw tightened again. “Who?”

He hesitated just long enough to make my stomach twist. “Lombardi. We traced it to him.”

The name hit like a blow. “Lombardi?”

Julian nodded once. “He’s playing both sides. Someone bought his loyalty.”

I cursed under my breath, heat flooding my chest. Lombardi had been with us for years. He owed me more than most of the men still breathing in this city. Betrayal from him wasn’t just business—it was personal.

“Find out who he’s working with,” I said, voice low, controlled. “Quietly. I don’t want this bleeding into Cosmo.”

Julian’s eyes flicked, just enough to tell me he understood. He didn’t ask what I meant by “quietly.” He didn’t have to.

The silence stretched a beat longer, thick with unspoken things.

And then the door opened again.

“Mr. Marshall—”

Kayna’s voice.

I straightened, too quickly, and found her stepping inside with a slim folder clutched in her hands. She looked professional as always, but her eyes—always steady, always searching—flicked to Julian, then to me.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “This needs your signature for Cosmo before their liaison finalizes tomorrow’s agenda.”

For a moment, I didn’t move. Something about the timing, about her standing there with that quiet composure, unsettled me.

“Leave it here,” I said finally, gesturing to the desk.

She crossed the room, her steps light, deliberate. I caught the faint trace of her perfume, clean and maddening. She placed the folder in front of me, but for a split second, her eyes lingered on the papers Julian had left.

I picked up my pen, scrawled my signature across the page she’d brought, and slid it back to her. “That’ll be all, Kayna.”

“Of course, Mr. Marshall.” Her voice was polite, even, but something in her gaze stayed fixed a second too long. Then she nodded, turned, and left the room as quietly as she’d entered.

The door closed behind her with a quiet click, but I felt her presence still, like she’d left part of herself in the room.

Julian leaned back in his chair, exhaling. “You’re wound too tight.”

“She caught me mid-discussion,” I said flatly.

He arched a brow. “You think she suspects anything?”

I shook my head. “She doesn’t need to. Kayna’s role is to keep the day-to-day running. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more,” Julian repeated, his mouth curving slightly, like he didn’t believe me.

I ignored him. “Keep digging into Lombardi. I want leverage before I step into that L.A. meeting.”

Julian stood, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “Already ahead of you. Just remember—if Alex is back, Lombardi’s betrayal might not be the only problem on your doorstep.”

I didn’t reply.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

The moment the door closed behind Julian, I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. My head pounded, the shadows pressing closer than ever.

Alex circling.

Lombardi betraying.

Kayna…

For the briefest moment, I let myself imagine what it would feel like to let her in. To tell her even a fraction of the things gnawing at me. The thought was so dangerous I shoved it away almost instantly.

I poured a glass of scotch instead.