The Untouchable Damien Royce

Chapter 7

Seeds of Doubt

The fun in the ballroom a few minutes ago, before Damien stepped inside, was gone; the air felt heavy, like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room the moment John Miller started trembling. Every eye was on Damien, and the silence was very heavy in the room; no one knew what to believe or trust at that moment.

Nicholas was the first to break it. He let out a loud, forced laugh. His face was turning to a shade of purple, something Damien had only seen on men about to have a heart attack.

"This is a joke, right? Some kind of sick prank?" Nicholas shouted, looking around the room for support. "John, get it together! You’re the CEO! This guy is a nobody! He’s a gardener! A thief! He’s spent the last three years eating scraps in a cell!"

Chloe stepped forward, her dress dragging against the floor. Her eyes were wide with a mix of fear and pure hatred. She looked at Damien, then at Amelia, her lip curling in disgust.

"That’s a lie!" Chloe screamed, her voice cracking. "Damien, you are nothing but a lying bastard! Who the hell are you trying to feel like, huh? You think you can walk in here with some cheap suit and a high-end escort and play God?"

She turned her attention toward Amelia, stepping into her personal space. "And you! Look at you, clinging to him like you've found a prize. You look useless together. Two nobodies playing dress-up. Do you even know where he sleeps? Probably in a ditch!"

Amelia didn't flinch. She didn't even blink. She stepped forward, her heels clicking softly. She was shorter than Chloe, but in that moment, she looked like she was looking down from a mountain.

"You call him trash?" Amelia’s voice was calm. "That’s funny. Because from where I’m standing, the only trash in this room is the woman who sold her soul and her husband for a man who can’t even look his own business partners in the eye."

"You little—" Chloe raised her hand, but Amelia didn't move.

"Go ahead,"

Amelia said, her eyes flashing. "Strike me in front of all these cameras. Show the world exactly how 'elite' the Pierce family really is. Damien is a king compared to the cowards in this room. If you can't see that, it’s because you’re blinded by the glitter Nicholas bought you with stolen money."

"Stolen money?" Nicholas roared, stepping between them. "Watch your mouth, girl! My family built this city!"

Damien finally stepped forward. He didn't shout. He didn't even raise his voice. He just pulled a small, slim tablet from his jacket pocket and tapped the screen. Instantly, the massive projector screens behind the stage—which were supposed to show the merger logo—flickered and changed.

Rows of numbers, bank codes, and offshore account names began to scroll.

"Is that so, Nicholas?" Damien asked. "Because these records from the Cayman Islands say otherwise. It seems the Pierce Group has been funneling nearly forty percent of its investors' capital into a private shell company. 'G.S. Holdings.' Does that ring a bell?"

The room erupted. Reporters, who had been invited to cover the merger, suddenly dropped their champagne glasses and hoisted their cameras. The flashes started going off like a lightning storm.

"That's a fabrication!" Nicholas screamed, sweat pouring down his forehead now. "He’s a hacker! He’s an ex-con! He’s framing me! Security, shut those screens off now!"

"Frame you?" Damien tilted his head. "The transactions are dated. Some of them happened while I was in prison. Some happened just last night. While you were celebrating your 'merger,' you were moving another five million out of the country."

"You have no proof of where that money came from!" Nicholas yelled, his voice turning high-pitched. "Those are just numbers! Anyone can make a spreadsheet!"

Damien smiled. It was the smile of a man who had already won. "I don't need to prove it to you, Nicholas. I just needed to show it to them."

He pointed to the crowd. The investors, the old men in the back who actually held the strings of the city, were already on their phones. Their faces were scrunched up.

"Look at the ticker, Nicholas," Damien said softly.

At the bottom of the screens, the live stock market feed for the Pierce Group began to flicker. It didn't just drop; it plummeted. Red arrows started flashing. The value was disappearing in real-time as the world watched Nicholas Pierce unravel.

Chloe was shaking now, her hands over her mouth. "Nicholas? Nicholas, tell them he's lying! Tell them it's not true!"

Nicholas didn't answer. He was too busy trying to snatch a camera away from a reporter who was getting too close. The "Prince of Oak Haven" was falling apart, his hair messy, his tie unkept, screaming like a madman.

Damien reached out and took Amelia’s hand. He felt her fingers wrap around his immediately. He leaned in toward Nicholas, who was now being swarmed by the media.

"This is just the first seed I’ve planted, Nicholas," Damien whispered, his voice a low, terrifying rumble that only the three of them could hear. "By tomorrow morning, the name 'Pierce' won't be a brand. It’ll be a warning. You won't even have enough left to defend your own reputation."

Damien turned and began to walk away.

"Damien! Come back here!" Chloe shrieked, trying to run after him, but she was blocked by a wave of photographers. "You can't do this! You're nothing! You're a nobody!"

Damien didn't look back. He led Amelia through the doors, leaving the chaos, the screaming, and the crumbling empire behind him.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, the valet brought around a sleek, black car.

"That was... intense," Amelia said, letting out a breath she’d been holding. "You really are going to destroy them, aren't you?"

Damien opened the door for her, his face hard like stone, and responded. "I told you, Amelia. I’m just getting started."