The Tattooed Emperor: Reborn Before the Apocalypse

Chapter 8: Gold Tooth Fatty! Three Conditions!

A black Maybach cut through traffic on the highway leading into Ironhaven City.

Damon watched the skyline blur past the window, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

He already knew the men Uncle Frank had rallied weren't the type to chase comfort over loyalty. Still, guilt had a way of making him second-guess even the things he already knew were true. He'd asked the crowd back at the warehouse a question he half-wanted answered honestly and half-hoped no one would answer at all.

But the outcome had settled something in his chest all the same.

Out of eight hundred and thirteen men standing in that warehouse, not one of them had stepped back.

Made sense, really. Men who chose this life weren't the type to walk away from real power once it was dangled in front of them. Add in the not-so-subtle guilt trip he'd laid on them about the apocalypse bearing down in two days, and turning away from a tattoo would've taken a special kind of stubbornness nobody in that room had.

Damon lit a cigarette, drew in a slow breath, and let the smoke curl out in a long ribbon that twisted like something alive.

After everything he'd survived in his first life years of watching allies turn traitor the second things got hard the loyalty of these eight hundred men, unwavering even in the face of death, hit him harder than he expected.

But where some things about this life brought him comfort, others turned his stomach.

Namely: the animals who'd sold out his own father his own blood just to steal a seat of power they hadn't earned.

Still, revenge wasn't today's priority. Today's priority was money.

Vengeance could wait. There was no upside to rushing it and losing everything he'd built for the sake of a little satisfaction now.

Leading an army of Divine Tattoo Envoys through hell just to settle old scores wasn't going to be simple once the world actually ended. Better to plan it properly.

Uncle Frank's voice cut through his thoughts from the driver's seat.

"Young Master, we're here."

"Good."

Damon stepped out of the car, expression cold and unreadable, and walked straight toward the tower ahead a gleaming glass building with a massive gold-plated sign mounted above the entrance.

TALON ENTERPRISES.

At that same moment, in the Vice Chairman's office several floors up, a heavyset middle-aged man with a gleaming gold tooth had one arm around each of two women in bikinis, wine glass balanced precariously in his free hand.

"Mr. Marchetti, please. With old man Sterling gone, the chairmanship's practically got your name already carved into the nameplate seniority, ability, doesn't matter which way you slice it."

"To the new king of the underworld in this state, Chairman Marchetti! Cheers, in advance!"

"Ha! Cheers to that!"

Just as things were starting to get considerably less professional, the desk phone let out a sharp, insistent ring.

"Hm?"

Irritation flickered across Dominic Marchetti's doughy face as he peeled himself off both women and lumbered over to the desk.

"This better be important. I've got company right now, so make it quick, or I swear I'll wait, what?"

"You're telling me Frank and that little punk Damon Sterling just walked into the building?"

"...Fine. Understood. I'll wrap up here and come see them myself."

His expression went dark the second he hung up.

"Can neither one of you shut your mouths for five damn minutes? You trying to get me to put you both in the ground?"

He pinched both women hard enough to draw a yelp before shrugging his jacket back on, cigar clamped between his teeth.

"Warm the sheets up while I'm gone, girls. I'll be back before you know it, and I'll teach you both some new words."

Minutes later, Dominic shoved open the conference room door wearing a wide, oily grin.

"Frank! Damon! Both of you, here at the company, and nobody thought to give me a heads-up? I'd have rolled out the red carpet!"

Damon, seated calmly at the head of the table, didn't respond right away. Uncle Frank beat him to it.

"Gold Tooth, watch your mouth. The chairman's seat hasn't been decided yet. Don't get comfortable acting like it's already yours."

Dominic's grin froze, then curdled into something colder.

"Frank, I respect you plenty as the senior elder of this family. But that doesn't mean"

He never finished the sentence.

Because Damon who had been sitting calmly at the head of the table half a second earlier was suddenly standing directly in front of him, one hand locked around his throat.

"Doesn't mean what, exactly?"

Damon's voice stayed level, ice-cold, killing intent banked but unmistakably present underneath every word.

"How fast do you think that was, Dominic?"

Panic flooded Dominic's face as the grip around his throat tightened, air rapidly running out.

"I let go I'll let go, I'm gonna die"

Just before he actually would have, Damon released him and shoved him to the floor.

Thud.

Pain lanced up through his tailbone, his whole face twitching with the impact but Dominic barely registered it, too busy sucking down desperate lungfuls of air.

When he finally lifted his head to glare up at Damon, fury had replaced the panic completely.

Another second or two, and he'd have been dead on that office floor.

Before he could say a word, Damon spoke first.

"I didn't come here to fight you for the chairman's seat."

"In fact, I have zero interest in that chair. But I'll walk away from it entirely on three conditions."

Dominic's fury dissolved into open confusion.

"Your Highness... you're being serious right now?"

Damon ignored the question and kept going, methodical, like he was reading off a checklist.

"Condition one: you buy out every share I hold, at double the current market value. Cash only. No stock swaps, no delayed payments."

"Condition two: there's a red panda at the Ironhaven Zoo named Lazy. I want it transferred into my custody, full ownership, no questions asked."

"Condition three: I'm leaving the country in three days. Before I go, you'll secure me twenty clean passports and full residency approval under names I'll provide you separately."

"Meet all three, and I'll sign, stamp, and fingerprint my withdrawal from the chairman's race right here, right now and I'll cast my vote in your favor while I'm at it."

Damon tossed a folder of documents onto the floor in front of the still-stunned Dominic, his tone dropping into something almost bored.

"So. Do we have a deal?”