Chapter 11 - The Final Loose End
They didn't go back to Maine.
They flew to a small, quiet town in northern Italy.
For three weeks, life was terrifyingly normal.
Damian bought a villa with high walls, but no guards.
He learned how to make pancakes. He learned that Mr. Buttons required a specific voice when speaking.
But Claire saw him staring out the window at night.
“You’re waiting for them,” she said one evening, standing in the doorway of his study.
Damian turned from the window.
“My uncle won't stop. As long as I’m alive, he’ll think I’m coming back for the throne.”
“Then what do we do?”
“I have to end it.”
The next morning, Damian was gone.
He left a note on the kitchen counter.
I will be back by dinner. Keep the gates locked.
In Chicago, Marcus Thorne and Damian’s uncle, Vincent, were sitting in a private restaurant, celebrating their new alliance.
The doors locked from the outside.
Damian walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.
The bodyguards on the floor were already unconscious.
Vincent stood up, his face pale.
“Damian. You’re supposed to be in Canada.”
“You went after my daughter, Vincent.”
Thorne reached for his gun, but Damian shot him in the shoulder before he could clear the holster. Thorne collapsed, screaming.
Damian walked up to the table.
He didn't yell. He didn't threaten.
He simply placed a thick folder on the table.
“These are the offshore accounts. The routing numbers to the European suppliers. Everything you need to run the empire.”
Vincent stared at the folder, bewildered.
“I’m giving it to you,” Damian said coldly. “On one condition.”
He leaned in close to his uncle’s face.
“I am a ghost. My family does not exist. If anyone from Chicago ever looks in my direction again, I won't just take the empire back. I will burn you alive inside it.”
He dropped a lighter on the table.
“Do we have a deal?”
May you like
Vincent nodded frantically.
Damian turned and walked out. He had a flight to catch.
