The Untouchable Damien Royce

Chapter 12

The Drunken Sovereign

The penthouse was as quiet as a grave. 

For three days, the massive doors had stayed locked. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and the heavy silence of a man who didn't want to be found. Damien sat on the edge of a chair, his head hanging low.

The room was pitch black, save for the tiny, blinking green light on a router in the corner. On the glass table in front of him sat that faded ultrasound picture. It looked like small, harmless things, but to Damien, they were bombs that had gone off in his hands.

A key turned in the lock and the heavy front door swung open, hitting the wall with a dull thud.

"Damien?"

It was Amelia. Her voice was steady, but there was a hint of anger in it. She didn't wait for him to answer as she marched across the room, her heels clicking on the floor. Without a word, she reached out and gripped the edge of the heavy curtains, and with one violent tug, she ripped them open.

The Sun brightened the room immediately, hitting Damien right in the eyes, causing him to groan and shield his face with a shaky hand.

"Close it," 

Damien muttered, his voice coarse, sounding like he had been swallowing sand. 

"Close the damn curtains, Amelia."

"No," was her response, her voice steady and cold like ice. Taking a look at the room, Amelia turned around, crossing her arms as she observed the mess around him.

Empty bottles were tipped over on the floor, and half-filled glasses sat next to the ultrasound. The room, bed, in utter disarray.

Amelia shook her head, covering her nose a little. She narrowed her gaze at Damien as she spoke in quite a loud voice.

"Look at yourself, look around you. You look like a ghost."

Damien squinted at her, his vision blurry. His hair was a mess, and his chin was covered in three days of thick, dark stubble. 

"What are you doing here? I told Daniel I didn't want to see anyone."

"Daniel is downstairs trying to stop the board members from losing their minds," Amelia responded, stepping closer. 

She kicked an empty bottle out of her way. 

"While you’re up here hiding in the dark, Nicholas Pierce is on every news channel in the city. He’s crying on camera, Damien. telling everyone that you forced your way into their home and caused Chloe to lose her baby. He’s calling you a murderer."

Damien let out a short, dry laugh and reached for a glass on the table, but Amelia snatched it away before he could touch it.

"Don't. Don't even think about it “she snapped. 

"You’ve had enough. The world is falling apart outside these walls, and the greatest CEO is hiding in a bottle."

Damien stayed silent for a moment, his shoulders slumped. Letting out a small sigh, he then slowly pushed himself up from the chair. 

And promptly stumbled, his balance gone, and for a second it looked like he was going to fall. Amelia reached out to help him, but he brushed her hands away.

He took two unsteady steps toward her, his breath smelling of alcohol, suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her shoulders, pinning her back against the large window frame.

The heat of the sun was burning through the glass behind her.

The air between them was hot and heavy. Damien leaned in close, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a dark, raw pain she had never seen before.

"You think I care about Nicholas?" he whispered, his voice shaking. 

"You think I care about what the news says? I spent three years in a cage for people who didn't even want me. I built an empire with trillions of dollars just to prove I wasn't trash."

He gripped her shoulders a little tighter, his gaze dropping to the table where the picture lay.

"I’m building a kingdom, Amelia. I’m standing at the top of the world. But what if the whole thing is built on a secret I didn't even know existed?"

Amelia looked into his eyes, her expression softening for a split second. She could see the man behind the billionaire; the little boy who had been thrown away and was now realizing he might have let history repeat itself.

"We don't know that yet, Damien," she said softly. "The journal only says she was pregnant. It doesn't say what happened after."

Squeezing his eyes shut, he let go of her suddenly, as if he had been burned. He turned away and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear the fog in his brain. The anger was still there, but it was now being replaced by focus.

"Daniel!" 

Damien roared, his voice echoing through the penthouse.

The side door opened almost immediately, as Daniel stepped in, looking tired but relieved to see Damien standing up. "Yes, sir?"

"Get me the strongest coffee you can find," Damien commanded, his voice growing steady. 

"The board is still calling, Damien," Daniel warned. "They want to know how we’re going to handle the Pierce lawsuit."

"Tell the board to wait," Damien said, walking over to the sink to splash cold water on his face. He looked at Amelia through the mirror. "Nicholas and Chloe are just seeing the tip of the ice. I have a lot cooked for them. If they touched a hair on my son's head, I wouldn't just bankrupt them. I'll make them wish they were the ones who stayed in that prison."

Amelia watched him, a small smile playing on her lips. He was back. He was grumpy, he was hungover, and he was dangerous.

"What about the news?" she asked.

Damien grabbed a towel and wiped his face dry. He looked at her with a smirk.

"Let Nicholas enjoy his fifteen minutes of fame," Damien replied. 

"The higher he climbs on those lies, the harder he's going to fall when I pull the ladder out from under him. Now, get me that coffee. We have work to do."

Staring at nothing in particular, Damien’s gaze grew cold as steel.