The Heart of Rage
“Please,” Damien grunted out, his face hardening. “Please, tell me the location,” he pleaded into the video call, shock widening Lila’s mouth just as much as his men’s.
He had not only dropped to his knees but also begged, something he had never done before. It was unbelievable, and now his men were convinced their boss loved Lila deeply.
As Damien stared at the phone, waiting for the next instructions, his men kept their eyes on him, all except the intel guy who continued desperately trying to track the location.
Blade in particular looked broken and shattered at the sight of his boss kneeling and begging for a woman. A tear slipped down his cheek as his worst fear became reality. He had always been afraid Damien would one day fall this hard because of Lila, and now it had finally happened.
“Whoaaaa! I still don’t believe the almighty Damien Wolfe could beg. I mean, actually plead for something. And to think he’s doing it because of a girl… a bitch,” the voice said, dripping with mockery.
Damien’s jaw clenched harder the longer he stared at the screen, forced to watch tears stream down Lila’s face.
“You’ve gotten what you wanted. Now tell me the goddamn location,” he growled, but the voice cut him off again.
“Calm down, Wolfe. There’s one more condition.”
The words were barely spoken when Damien shot to his feet, rage snapping through him. “What more conditions, you bastard?!”
“Get back on your knees, Wolfe,” the voice ordered. Damien didn’t move, and in the next second he watched the same man strike Lila across the face. A sharp yelp burst out of her, pain twisting her expression.
Damien dropped to his knees instantly, the fight bleeding out of him. His voice turned low and desperate as he pleaded. “Please. Don’t touch her again.”
“Then cooperate if you don’t want me to touch her again,” the voice said, and Damien nodded quickly, fear tightening his features.
“I’ll share the location with you now, but you have to come on your own,” the voice continued. Damien nodded again, and his men exchanged worried looks.
“Also, you have to stay on this call. You feel me?”
“No problem,” Damien replied. The live location appeared on his screen a second later, and he asked quietly, “Can I stand up and start coming now?”
“Yeah. Stand up and don’t even think of doing anything funny,” the voice answered coldly.
Damien nodded and started moving toward the entrance.
“Boss,” his men called out at the same time and moved to follow him.
“Don’t follow me!” Damien barked. “Don’t even try to follow me.” After giving them one last long, heavy look, he turned away and walked out of the room.
The men ruffled their hair in growing worry.
“What is going to happen now? We cannot let the boss go there on his own,” Rex said, his voice cracking with fear.
While the others spoke over one another, their concerns spilling out in a frantic mess, Blade stayed silent. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the door. Then, without a word, he suddenly bolted toward it.
“Blade!” they all shouted at once.
He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at them, his expression hard and burning with determination.
“I would rather give up my life than let anyone hurt the boss,” he said, each word trembling with emotion. He pulled the door shut behind him and dashed outside.
By the time he reached the front, Damien was already driving out of the premises. Blade waited just long enough for the gate to close, then sprinted to the garage. He flung open the door of a sports car, jumped inside, and tore out of the yard, his heart pounding with fear and loyalty.
Damien was at full speed, his eyes barely flicking to the phone on the holder.
“Are you sure no one is following?” the voice asked coldly.
Instinctively, Damien grabbed his phone, wound down the window, and turned the camera toward the back. There was nothing, just an empty road stretching behind him.
“Can you see?” he asked sharply, before snapping the phone back in place and pushing the accelerator harder.
“Good boy,” the voice giggled.
Behind him, Blade kept his distance, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Every fiber of him screamed to speed up, to protect his boss but he forced himself to stay back. He could not let his boss know he was following.
Almost an hour later, Damien arrived. The house looked ancient, Italian, isolated, abandoned, with no barricade in sight. It stood alone in the middle of a desolate estate, silent and foreboding.
The call went dead. Damien slid his phone into his pocket and stepped inside. The air was heavy, and almost immediately, four men appeared, moving with trained precision to escort him.
They led him to the back of the house, down creaking steps, and finally into the basement hidden beneath the old building. The underground was cold and shadowed, every step echoing ominously.
As soon as the man led him fully into the basement, Damien’s eyes fell on Lila. She was positioned near the entrance, and the sight stole the breath from his lungs. Dried and fresh blood smeared across her face, her skin swollen and pale. Every bruise, every cut, spoke of hours of torment. It was clear they had been torturing her since morning.
Damien’s hands clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles whitened. His broad frame trembled with fury, jaw clenching and unclenching as a low growl built in his throat.
“Look who we finally have here,” Makiam’s voice echoed through the basement as he stepped into view. Beside him, Yelena crossed her arms, her smirk sharp and triumphant.
Damien let out a harsh huff and dragged a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving Lila. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you know me too well, Wolfe,” Yelena replied with a shrug, her smirk widening as if she were enjoying every second of his fury.
“You joined hands with your uncle just to lure me?” Damien’s voice was low, dangerous. “Is that how much you respect me?”
“You called that respect?” Makiam sneered. “Wolfe, we joined hands to destroy you. So save your strength against these men if you want to come out of here alive.”
Damien’s jaw flexed, his eyes scanning the room. Twenty men. All armed, all ready.
Makiam gestured at one of the four men behind Damien to search him.
Obediently, Damien lifted his hands, letting the man frisk him. But to their surprise, there wasn’t a single weapon on him.
“You never cease to amaze me, Wolfe,” Makiam said, a mock admiration in his tone, then moved toward a large map spread across a table on the other side of the room.
“Now come on, Wolfe. I need my deal back. Give it back and you can have your girl.”
Damien’s eyes flicked to Lila, her soft whimper breaking his heart. Then he looked back at Makiam. His gaze was fire, molten and deadly, and it told Makiam everything: the volcano inside Damien was ready to erupt, and when it did, nothing in the room would survive.