Chapter 5: The threat

{Damien}

Dressed in a black pants, topped by a white round neck top and a button down coat. Damien headed downstairs, climbing down the last stair just in time Carmela, the head's maid rushed out of his to be bride's room.

"Sir!" Carmela called out, lines forming on her forehead. A line that has nothing to do with her old age, but everything to do with the girl behind the closed door.

With his eyes narrowed, Damien looked behind Carmela, straight to the closed door as though willing himself to see whatever is behind it that made the old woman so panicky.

"Ma'am," Carmela breathed out. "I think she's sick. She cried to sleep last night without taking anything. And she's got a fever this morning."

Damien hummed. Of course he did not expect anything less. The girl was probably surprised and betrayed by whatever happened yesterday.

Something Damien believes has nothing to do with it.

He believes it's not his fault. The girl was smart enough to catch on quickly. He only helped her father out in a difficult situation with a condition of him keeping the girl.

Of course, we are always human... With the shit of not taking their interest into consideration.

He's almost tempted to walk out on the old woman, but he ignored the sadistic side of him and stayed.

Heaving out a sigh, Damien eased his hands into his pocket.

"Call the family Doctor to check on her. And give her something to eat too. "

"But... Carmela stammered, careful to pick her words properly to avoid getting on the bad side of the master. "She refused to eat anything. I think she wants to starve..."

"Force her to eat!" Damien snapped. "Tie her up if you have to. Just make sure she eats!"

Damien really doesn't care if the girl eats or not. But it'd be a hassle if Iris ended up dying and he's back to square one.

He doesn't care about the girl being sick. No! As long as she's okay to stand beside him tomorrow as his bride... Then he's not asking much.

He let out another sigh, his finger massaging his temple to calm himself down and subdue the raging storm of anger.

Damien wanted to be careful with the old woman. The woman has been with him for years now, and he doesn't want to sour their relationship because of his bride

.

"Just... Just make sure she has something." Damien said.

Lady Carmela nodded hesitantly, her lashes slapping the wrinkled skin beneath her eyes.

Damien knows what those actions mean, and he doesn't want to inquire further.

Lady Carmela is not sure about how to get Iris to eat, and Damien is almost tempted to advise her to tie her up again.

"Alright then." Ignoring the words, Damien nodded at the woman before he made his way outside.

In a few minutes, he's already sitting at the back of his hundred million car. His head upon the headrest as the car glided the street

However, his mind couldn't stop thinking about what happened at home, and he's almost tempted to call the man he made a deal with.

Damien doesn't work with people who don't keep to rules, and this new client of his not only wasted his time and broke his rules, he painted him evil for his bride.

He smirked, liking the word "evil". The sadist side wanted to show the man how evil he exactly can be.

Very evil he might serve Iris' father's blood as wine to his daughter.

The car moved to a halt before a big building, and the back door opened, exposing Damien to the bright light of the morning sun

.

He stepped out and walked inside the big company, accompanied by his bodyguards.

"Here you are," came a voice Damien is well familiar with. A voice he deem annoying and would appreciate if someone cut off the owner's throat. "Been waiting for you for eons now"

Effortlessly whirling his head sideways, Damien's turquoise eyes fell on a familiar figure leaning against the elevator door. His arms around his midriff, and a knowing smirk carefully playing on his lips.

"I'm sorry Nathan. I'm getting married tomorrow and that means you'll stop waiting to give me a welcome kiss." Damien smiled at his cousin who glared back at him. "Do you think you can hold on until them?"

"You improve on your humor I see. Is this because of the big occasion tomorrow?"

Damien edged forward to place his hand on Nathan's shoulder, gripping it tight it caused the other man to moan in pain.

Nathan is his nemesis... At least that's what they both called themselves. They're cat and rat who still manage to have meals together, each accompanied by a thought of a million ways to murder each other.

"Your wedding gift is early. Thanks for the compliment, Nat."

Nathan hissed, trying hard to shrug Damien's hand off him, but the veiny hand did not budge, instead, it pressed harder on his shoulder as though determined to drill a hole inside it.

Damien grinned, finally letting go of Nathan's shoulder as soon as the elevator dinged open. The latter slipped out a bit of profanity under his breath.

"I hope you die!" Nathan hissed, stepping inside the elevator with Damien.

"I won't until I see you ten feet underground"

The elevator closed, leaving the two cousins glaring at each other.

No one takes a ride with them. They're two crises who's careful enough to not have slit each other's throats a long time ago. Even though they want nothing more than to see each other in pain.

The pain of one that makes the other giggle like a girl and climax as though he's been given a good head.

Damien leaned against the elevator, his eyes closed, not a bit bothered by his nemeses in the form of his cousin. Nor could he be bothered by the girl he kept home, but the thought of her couldn't stop coming to his mind.

Has she eaten?

Damien wanted to know. And he almost cussed himself for being too inquisitive.

"You're truly getting married, aren't you?"

Damien opened his eyes, and again... Twice today, they fell on his nemesis. A frown form on his face, he leaned forward, carefully searching Nathan's eyes.

"What do we have here? A curious cat?" Damien chuckled.

"You wish!" Nathan barked, quickly looking away from his cousin.

He knows his cousin much more than anyone else. He knows his past and what pain he's gone through.

No! This is not him being worried... Or maybe he's just a bit worried about his cousin.

But Nathan would rather take a gun to his head than let Damien know he's occupied a smaller space in his heart.

"I am," Damien said. His voice was low, but audible enough for Nathan to hear, and low enough to know that his cousin is not in his sassy mood.

Damien looks away, afraid he'd let his emotions take over him... And worse, in his cousin's presence.

He's let go... Leaving the past where it belongs. He wanted to make sure that the past has nothing to do with him... Not anymore. And he's not willing to let anything weigh him down.

The elevator dinged open, and Damien sighed. Avoiding the meaning laid behind his cousin's question. He turned back to look at his cousin who has his eyes on him the whole time. Then his lips unfurled into a smirk.

"I have to." Damien said. "That's the only way to avoid the board setting me up. And the only way I'll be deemed capable more than you. "

"Asshole!"

Giving Nathan a last grin, Damien made his way out. His presence caused an uproar of a "good morning sir" from different angles. A greeting that only got a single nod from the man himself.

Damien let himself into his spacious office. Finding himself on his swivel chair.

This is another bright morning for him. Another morning to make more money, acquire more contracts and keep his mind away from anything that has to do with his past.

But Damien's past was lingering, fighting not to be forgotten. It's haunting Damien in the form of a small parcel that laid neatly on his table.

With his eyebrow creased, his lips forming a thin line as he dragged the parcel closer to him.

Seeing as the parcel was addressed to him personally. Damien ripped the parcel opened, dipping his hand inside to bring out a small envelope.

With a narrowed gaze, he unfurled the envelope, bringing out a handwritten letter...the action causing a small photo to fall on the tabletop.

"You're getting married. After killing her?"

Damien scoffed. He knows who was trying to mess with him, but he just didn't know he would use this outdated type of a threat.

Damien threw the letter on the tabletop with a scoff, then he snatched the small photo on the table.

The image drained the remaining blood from his face. His shoulder tensed, and his breath caught in his throat.

Damien stumbled back, quickly dropping the photo. His entire body quivered, and nausea churned in his gut

He held his head as a familiar wail of anguish enveloped his mind. An agony that his sadistic self couldn't bear.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as the memory clawed at his brain...a memory he desperately wants to forget.

He recalled the woman he's murdered. The gruesome sight of her dead body that haunted his nightmare.

*His wife that he's murdered*