The Lawless Man With A Thousand Chains

009 Classy Women

Damon's voice remained steady, unbothered by the panicking woman waving her blade around.

"Put the weapon down, take a breath," he said, giving a small, reassuring shake of his head. "That little thing can't even scratch me. But you're making a really strange choice here by threatening the guy who just saved you." 

The woman kept the dagger pointed at his throat for several long seconds. Her breathing was ragged, tears still wet on her cheeks. Finally, she lowered the blade a fraction, though she did not put it away.

Damon swung his legs off the bed, walked to a side table as if nothing unusual had happened, and picked up a red apple from a fruit bowl. He took a clean bite. The crisp sound filled the quiet bedroom.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "Saved me from what?"

The young man took another bite of his apple. "Someone planted a rampage energy time bomb inside you. It was set to go off at a specific moment. I got it out just in time and handled the explosion."

She stared at him, looking completely lost and bewildered. "A time bomb? Inside me?"

Damon nodded. "Who are you? And where were you headed when you lost control of the car?"

She hesitated. The sheer absurdity of his words should have sounded like a lie, but his casual confidence stopped her. Slowly, she lowered the dagger and set it on the nightstand.

Her voice steadied, the panic melting away into her usual corporate composure. "I'm Lucy Croft," she said, squaring her shoulders. "Director of Croft Dynamics. My personal net worth sits just under three hundred million, and my company is worth ten times that."

"I was on my way to a high-profile, closed-door meeting. Every director, executive, and major shareholder is attending. Today, the entire leadership of Croft Dynamics is in one room."

Damon finished the apple and tossed the core into a nearby bin. "Then whoever put the bomb in you wanted to wipe out you and your company in one strike."

"They just underestimated rampage energy. It cannot be tamed by ordinary people. The energy went critical early and nearly detonated you on the road instead."

Lucy's face went pale. She sat down hard on the edge of the bed.

"There have been attacks on top officials recently," she admitted quietly. "Three of our senior directors were poisoned last month. We ramped up security, changed routes, and hired private protection. I never imagined someone could plant something like this inside me."

Damon just shrugged, like he'd already figured this was part of a bigger pattern. Whoever hired a rampage energy user to handle an assassination wasn't playing games—they were dead serious.

Lucy looked around the luxurious bedroom as if seeing it for the first time. Her eyes narrowed as she looked out the window and recognized the building.

"How are we even inside Turner Mansion? This place has been locked down for years. It belongs to Harlan—the crime lord. No one is supposed to be able to get in."

Damon shrugged again. "I live here now."

Lucy let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You live here? What are you, the caretaker? The night watchman?"

Damon did not correct her. He had no obligation to tell this woman that he owned the deeds to Turner Mansion. He simply watched her, calm and unreadable.

Lucy studied him more carefully. "Whatever you are, you saved my life. You're some kind of miracle healer, aren't you?"

The young man gave a slight nod. "Something like that. There is no ailment in the world that I cannot heal."

Lucy took a deep breath and straightened her blouse, trying to regain her professional composure even though her hair was still messy and her clothes were wrinkled from the ordeal.

"Is that so? Then I have another problem for you. My father and my elder brother are both suffering from mysterious illnesses. No doctor in the country has been able to help them. If you can cure them the way you cured me, I will pay whatever you ask. Name your price."

Damon looked her over for a moment. "I lost a canvas bag at the airport when I got to Dorne City," he said. "I already have people searching, but nothing has turned up. If you can help me track it down, I'll take a look at your father and brother."

Lucy stared at him, then gave a short, sharp nod. "Done. My father is the Mayor of Dorne City, and my brother is the Head of the Urban Planning Department. They can turn this city upside down if they have to. I'll arrange a meeting."

She glanced down at her ruined clothes, then checked the clock. "I need to get to the board meeting," she said, furrowing her brow. "They must be already waiting for me."

"Can I use your laundry? I just need to wash and dry these fast. I really don't have time to go all the way home to change."

Damon stared off, completely lost in his own thoughts. "Feel free, but I honestly don't know where the machines are. You'll just have to find them yourself."

Lucy nodded her thanks, wondering how a building's caretaker had no idea about its floor plans. She gathered her blouse and skirt and hurried out of the bedroom.

Left alone, Damon wandered out of the master suite and down the wide hallway into the main living areas, just taking in how massive the place actually was.

The ceilings were incredibly high, and massive glass walls looked right out over the ridge toward the distant lights of the city below.

All the furniture looked custom—dark woods, heavy leathers, and metal trim. Sleek touch-pads were built right into the walls to control the temperature, dim the windows, and check the security cameras.

Even the air smelled expensive, like a high-end hotel. Harlan had basically built a private kingdom up on this hill, and now it was all Damon's.

The gate bell rang.

Damon walked over to the front entrance and pulled open the massive door.

Vanessa Quinn was standing on the steps, her arms crossed as she looked around the grand courtyard, clearly taken aback by the grandeur of the place. She blinked, her gaze snapping over to him.

"Damon? What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he said.

Vanessa's eyebrows rose. She glanced past him into the vast foyer, her eyes tracking across the polished floors as she arrived at the exact same conclusion Lucy had reached earlier.

"Oh. Good for you. Getting work in the city as a watchman or caretaker isn't bad at all. At least you're not sleeping on the street."

"Forbes Construction actually handles the maintenance for Turner Mansion, so I am just here doing a routine check. I didn't know they were hiring for grunt work."

Before Damon could reply, soft footsteps approached from behind.

Lucy Croft walked out, wearing nothing but a thick white towel wrapped around her body, her hair still damp from the shower. With her clothes already down in the laundry machines, she stopped right beside Damon, looking like she had just stepped off a high-end fashion shoot.

Her gaze drifted over to Vanessa on the doorstep.

"Who is it, Damon?" Lucy asked casually, resting a hand on his shoulder.

Vanessa's eyebrows shot up. Her eyes darted from Lucy's bare shoulders and the towel straight to Damon, then back again, taking a second to process the scene.

They had been married on paper for less than twenty-four hours, and he already had another woman sauntering around in nothing but a towel.

Damon was supposed to be an ex-convict, a nobody, yet somehow, he had managed to charm a classy, high-end woman like this?