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CHAPTER 75: ACROSS THE WATER
ACROSS THE WATERUpon reaching the far edge of a pier, Damien was met with a narrow motorboat, bobbing lazily against the dock posts. The hull was scratched at the side, its edges worn out from constant use. Its paint had begun to peel, leaving thin strips along the body of the boat. A single rope anchored the boat loosely to a rusted metal ring etched into the wooden pier. A man sat within, one boot placed against the side as he turned the ticking engine off. He stepped toward the pier, the smoke from the cigarette dangling from his lips curling upward into the cold morning air. His eyes traveled to the two as they approached the boat. Clenching his cigarette between his teeth, he looked Damien over slowly, noting his tailored coat, polished shoes and clean features. Then his gaze dropped to the expensive watch on his wrist catching the early sunlight. “Boss," the driver muttered as he glanced at Brooks. “Who's the rich-looking boy?" “Show some respect, Boyd," Brooks answered
CHAPTER 74: HE'S REPORTED DEAD
HE'S REPORTED DEADThe cold morning wind sweet over the sea in sharp gusts, tugging restlessly at jackets and coats, sending harsh whispers against stacked containers. But Damien wasn't feeling it anymore. The sound had dulled to a ringing backdrop as a faint recognition of the man before him slowly began to set in.“I’m sorry,” Damien said evenly, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Have we met?”Brooks’ expression didn’t shift. “Brooks… Brooks Jackman,” he answered, extending nothing but his name. “I manage operations around here.”Boots placed firmly against the cold concrete, he stood up straight and stared at the man who had called his name. He'd stopped a few feet away, staring at him with an assessing gaze. Damien's fist tightened as Ryan's recording played back in his mind. This voice was unmistakably there, though it sounded muffled against the roars of the backwaters. And his name echoed repeatedly in his thoughts like a broken recorder. Brooks Jackman–right-hand man to the bigg
CHAPTER 73: BEFORE THE NAME WAS SPOKEN
BEFORE THE NAME WAS SPOKENThe room was dimly lit, its narrow walls lined with heavy wooden shelves stacked with almost everything–ledgers, liquor bottles, empty jars and sealed boxes. A single bulb hung from the blackened ceiling, casting a tired yellow glow over the dust floating in the air. The metal chair at the center creaked under Brooks' weight as he moved to the side. A bruise darkened the side of his face, highlighting slightly the swelling beneath his eyes. His lower lip was split at the corner, dried blood crusted over the cut. His shirt had been changed now, dotted with sweat and a few bloodstains. His jaw tightened, knuckles scraped raw as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. A wave of pain constantly crashed through his head–the painkillers were no help. A nurse stood before him, dabbing antiseptic onto a cotton pad. “Just hold still, please," she muttered as gently as she could. “I'll have to clean the bruise and–”She reached for Brooks' face but he quickly
CHAPTER 72: ERASED FROM THE PIER
ERASED FROM THE PIERThe city had barely woken up when Damien pulled out of the hotel's parking lot. The morning sun had just peeked over the high-rise buildings, its warm blue hue bleeding over the horizon and washing over the glass panes in muted color. The streets were thankfully still thin with traffic, just the delivery vans and the occasional commuter driving through intersections. Damien took in a deep breath and exhaled sharply as his hands rested steady on the steering wheel. His posture was calm, but his mind was a chaos of thoughts. Ryan. The muted voices. The gunshots following. And then silence. His phone buzzed softly in the cup holder, the sharp sound cutting through his thoughts. His eyes drop down briefly at the name dancing on the screen. Commissioner Jim. The call cut just before he could answer and a message preview immediately followed after, glowing across the display. ‘We need to talk. It's urgent.’Damien's jaw tightened. Was it about the recording he'd
CHAPTER 71: LOW TIDE
LOW TIDEThe room had fallen silent now except for the soft hum of jazz filling the space between Damien's breathing. It drifted from the loving area, looping so many times that the melody now felt woven into the very walls. Damien sighed softly as he turned over and stared up at the white ceiling. The place was darker now, lit only by the dim bulb in the dining area. A body stirred beside him and he turned his head. Elara lay curled tightly against him, her messy hair resting calmly over his chest. She had one arm draped across his torso as if fearing he might disappear if she loosened her hold. Her scent had clung to him now–floral and warm, mixed with the faint trace of wine and something sweet. Damien ran a hand through his head as his gaze drifted to the dining table. The food arranged neatly over the top still remained untouched, plates full. A lump formed in his chest as he thought of the mess still waiting for her in the kitchen. She had gone through a lot of stress prepa
CHAPTER 70: LOVE LONG WAITED
LOVE LONG WAITEDDamien found Elara sitting behind the table, one leg crossed over the other as she swirled the wine glass balanced between her fingers. The candlelights surrounding the dining area caught beautifully against the emerald silk dress hugging her skin. A few strands of her had slipped loose from the hairband she'd used to hold them in place, framing her face. Her lipstick had softened from the wine, smearing slightly across her cheeks. Her makeup looked ruined now… but she still looked as breathtaking as ever. A little undone, but breathtaking. Her gaze lifted slowly from the glass when she heard the door click shut. Her eyes settled on him, holding his stare for about a second before rolling lightly. “Oh,” she said, setting the glass down on the table. “You finally decided to come, huh.” She glanced toward the clock before returning her gaze to him. "Only three hours after our decided time. That's really early.”The words weren't sharp, but they definitely weren't li
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