Chapter 88

Damien’s POV

Pain was the only thing that kept me human these days.

Every breath felt like someone was driving nails into my ribs, but I took it anyway… because pain meant I wasn’t dead yet.

A week. That was how long it had been since the crash, so that meant seven days of morphine, bandages, and the stench of hospital disinfectant.

When the car stopped spinning that night, I saw death for a second.

When the darkness consumed me, I thought that was it.

And that was supposed to be it.

Now I was here, limping through the front gates of my mansion, alive but barely, walking with crutches.

The guards rushed to open the door as I stepped in.

“Sir!” Martha’s voice broke through the fog. She came running down the steps, eyes wide and wet. “You…oh my God, you’re awake!”

“Alive,” I corrected. “Not awake. Awake implies I slept.”

Her hand flew to her chest. “We didn’t think you’d—”

“I’m fine,” I cut in, though we both knew that was a lie.

Every step I took felt like my bones were on fire.

I limped past her and into the house.

The scent of florals hit me, that familiar scent of home.

I lowered myself into the armchair by the window, wincing as the pain shot up my side.

Martha followed behind me, I knew she wanted to talk but didn’t know where to start.

“Any word on Bianca?” I asked first. My voice came out rougher than I intended.

She shook her head slowly. “No, sir. She’s completely disappeared. We checked around, asking a few people close to her. None one has heard or seen her.”

“You did as I said.” I said flatly, my tone firm.

Her eyes flickered nervously. “Yes. We haven’t told anyone about your… condition, just like you asked.”

“Everyone still thinks I’m in a coma?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect.” I pushed myself up on the crutches, gritting my teeth.

“Sir, please,” she pleaded. “You shouldn’t be walking. You need to rest—”

“There’s no rest for me, Martha.” I sighed heavily. “There’s business to handle.”

Her voice broke again. “What kind of business could possibly be worth your life right now?”

“The kind that tried to take it,” I answered, and she flinched.

I limped out, leaving her standing there.

The guards helped me into the waiting car.

The door shut with a thud and we drove off.

We were almost to the not, when I slipped in an device to my ear. “Status.”

“Target’s still at the motel, boss,” came the reply. “She hasn't left all morning and she's alone.”

“And what of Leo?”

“He's gone, we heard he took a bus out of the city a week ago.”

My lips curled faintly. “Good. That means no distractions.”

“Raid in,” I said, after a long pause.

“Yes, boss.”

The line went silent again.

I rested my head back, my thoughts playing in my head.

Soon, the car slowed to a stop. I opened my eyes.

My eyes landed on my agents already set around the building.

I nodded to them, four of them, and they moved out, their masks on and their rifles ready.

I grabbed my crutches and followed behind them, each step slow but deliberate.

One of the men kicked the door open.

Elena spun around, startled. Her hair was a mess, her eyes wild but sharp.

“What the hell—”

“Hands up!” one of my men ordered.

She froze. Then slowly, she raised her hands. When her gaze found mine, she went still.

Her mouth parted just slightly. “Damien?” she whispered.

I stepped forward, leaning heavier on the crutches than I wanted to admit. “Expecting a ghost?”

She shook her head, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “How are you—”

“Alive?” I finished for her. “That seems to surprise a lot of people lately.”

Her lips parted again. “Damien, listen to me—”

“I told you to leave town,” I cut in. My tone was low and menacing. “But not only did you ignore me… you tried to kill me.”

Her expression hardened. “You were going to come after me either way. I just made it faster.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “You always did have a god complex.”

“I thought you were the devil,” she said, eyes locked on mine. “And devils deserve to burn.”

Her words should have stung. They didn’t, I've been called far worse.

“You talk too much,” I muttered.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she fired back.

“You don't have to be,” I said softly. “I don't care if you are anymore, I just want you eliminated.”

Her breath hitched, fear crawling up her spine.

Then she laughed, her tone sharp. “You’ll regret this, Damien.”

“Maybe.” I took a step closer, entering the space between us.

“But you might not live long enough to see it.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ve already been there,” I whispered. “You sent me.”

I tilted my head slightly toward the guards. “Get her.”

Two of them moved in. She thrashed instantly, shouting, kicking. Her elbow caught one of them in the chest, but he barely flinched. They pinned her arms back.

“Let go of me!”

I just watched as they dragged her out of the room.

“Don’t ever fuck with me again,” I muttered under my breath, my eyes still locked on her.

The door slammed behind her.

For a moment, there was only silence.

I limped toward the window, watching as my men shoved her into the van. She was still fighting, even as they slammed the doors shut. She was relentless. I almost admired it.

The guards returned a minute later. “Boss, what do we do with her?”

I didn’t take my eyes off the window, even as I answered. “Take her to the facility and lock her up. I’ll deal with her later.”

“Yes, boss.”

As he left the silence returned. I finally pulled away from the window, exhaling sharply.

Finally, I could rest easy.

Now just to wait you… Bianca.