Breakfast With The Devil Himself

Damien leaned back in his wheelchair, assessing me like a prize he'd just won. “I assume you understand why you’re here.”

“My father owes you money, and I told your men I’d come with them if they left my sister alone,” I said, forcing myself to hold his intense gaze.

I could see a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as soon as the words left my mouth. It was cute. Cuter than intended especially for a man so evil.

“Foolish!" He snorted, audible enough for me to hear.

I folded my hand into a fist “Look, I don’t care what you do to me. Just leave my family alone.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at the audacity. “You’re willing to sacrifice yourself for them?”

“I wouldn't be here if I wasn't,” I retorted.

“Five days. That’s how long your father has to pay me back. If he fails…” His gaze darkened. “consider yourself dead. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” I nodded, my heart pounding hard.

“Good. For now, you’ll stay here. My men will show you to your room. Don’t try anything stupid, and don’t leave the property. If you do, the deal is off and consider yourself dead.”

I bit my lip at his cold threat.... but nodded again. It was like he was in control of my movement.

The room they brought me to was surprisingly big, bigger than the room my sister and I shared back home. It had a large king-sized bed capable of occupying five times my size, a private bathroom, and even a balcony where I could see the mansion’s beautiful gardens below.

But, even with all this beauty, a part of me couldn’t help but feel trapped. I was in a glorious prison.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my currently shaky hands. Letting myself sink onto the mattress, I buried my face into my palm, and the tears I had been holding began to fall freely. This time, I didn't bother to stop them from falling.

I wasn’t so strong after all. I had just lost the life I was used to, my mom was gone, and my younger sister, who I was meant to protect, was currently out of sight. Everything was just too much to bear.

To make matters worse, I was now at the mercy of a man who could destroy my life with a snap of his fingers.

And my father had only five days to fix his mess.

___

The next morning came all too soon, and I woke up with a start as a loud knock threatened to break the door.

I groggily dragged myself out of bed, with my eyes puffy and sore, wondering how I must have cried myself to bed. I headed to open the door only to be greeted by an older woman standing, with a frown on her.

“Didn’t you hear the knock?” she asked coldly.

“No, I was sleeping.”

The woman, clearly unimpressed by me, rolled her eyes and sneered. “Freshen up. Mr. Black demands your presence downstairs. And next time, don’t keep me waiting.” She stormed off before I could respond.

I rolled my eyes. I wondered if every worker of Mr. Damien was like this—cold, rude, and heartless, just like him. My mind drifted to the man I stood before last night. His finely chiseled face, his cold but collected voice… his deep gaze made me feel a sensation I hadn’t felt before.

No! I shouldn’t be having these kinds of thoughts. I never did. Especially about my captor, who was apparently my mother’s killer too. I sighed as I headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

If I weren’t so famished, I’d have avoided contact with Damien altogether this morning. I headed down the stairs to the large dining room, which was covered with a variety of dishes.

Seated at the head of the table was Damien, dressed in a black suit and sipping what I presumed to be Chinese herbal tea. I could tell from the familiarity of the scent, and my years of working at Old Romano’s restaurant.

He didn’t look up as I entered, yet, his presence alone was suffocating yet calming.

“Good morning,” I said stiffly, out of sheer courtesy as I pulled out the farthest seat. Of course! I wasn't going to sit close to him.

Damien didn’t bother to acknowledge me, or my greeting. I gritted my teeth. Fine! If he wanted to act like he was dumb, then so be it.

I sat at the far end of the table, opened the silver-covered dishes, and stared at the traditional Italian breakfast.

The sight of it made my stomach rumble in excitement. It was my favorite - cornetti, fruit preserves, and scrambled eggs.

Without waiting longer, I piled my plate full and began to eat.

When I finally glanced up, I froze. Damien’s cold gaze was locked on me, one brow raised in amusement.

“Are you starving, or do you always eat like that?” he asked in a mocking tone

I swallowed hard, feeling a sudden heat rush to my cheeks. I put my fork down and glared at him. “What does it matter to you?”

His lips curved into a smirk. “It matters because I asked. And when I ask a question, I expect an answer.”

I bristled but forced myself to stay calm. “I was hungry,” I muttered, focusing back on my meal

“tell me about yourself.”

Acting oblivious to his words, I shoveled another bite of the tasty meal into my mouth.

“I don’t like being ignored,” he warned, his voice turning cold.

I hated being interrupted during meals and Damien was doing just that. “You’re Damien Black,” I said flatly. “I’m sure you already know everything about me.”

His smirk deepened. “Still cocky, I see.”. “It seems like you have forgotten why you're here. Your life is in my hands, Mon Amie. Start talking.”

"My name is Tracey Luke. I’m nineteen. I was in college before…” I trailed off, not wanting to relive the events that led me here.

“Go on,” Damien prompted.

“I worked at an Italian restaurant to help support my family,” I continued. “I like writing and… stargazing. That’s it.”

“Stargazing?” Damien’s brow arched. “How quaint.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I shot back.

He shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. “Nothing. It’s just surprising. I didn’t think someone like you would have time for such… innocent hobbies.”

“Someone like me?” I repeated, my voice rising.

Damien’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Yeah! Someone who spends her entire life cleaning up other people’s messes.” He commented in a way that made my heart hurt.

All my life I have been the one responsible for my family affairs. My father's addiction to gambling, protecting my mother from his wrath, and even shielding my sister, Rosie from the evil of the world —I have always been the one to bear the weight and pain of it all.

“I don’t have a choice,” I whispered, trying not to sound hurt.

"We all have a choice...you just choose not to make one.."

“Is that all about you?” Damien asked. I could notice a tingly tone of his unsatisfied tone. His sudden expression made me inferior and empty. He wanted more and I had nothing left about me. I was just a decent college student, hassling a part-time job to assist my family and make everyone happy.

“That’s all you need to know,” I snapped, glaring at him.

“You like to talk back huh....don’t you?”

I crossed my arms. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me about yourself.”

The shift in his demeanor was instant. His expression hardened, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

Before I could process his reaction, the dining room door burst open, and a man dragged by two of Damien’s men stumbled inside, dropping him to his knees in front of him.

“Please, Mr. Black,” the man begged, tears streaming down his face. “I just need more time. One week, I swear—”

“Quiet,” Damien interrupted his voice like ice.

The man’s pleas turned to incoherent sobs as he reached for Damien’s shoes. But before his hand could make contact, two of Damien’s men dragged him back, slamming him against the table.

Damien stood, pulling a knife from the table setting. “You touched me.” His voice was calm, almost casual, as he rolled up his sleeves.

The man shook his head frantically. “I—I didn’t mean to! Please, I’ll pay—”

I watched in horror as Damien motioned for the man’s hand.

“Wait!” I cried, jumping to my feet. I couldn't bear to see another person lose their life. “You don’t have to do this!”

Damien glanced at me, his demeanor changing from the man I was talking to a few seconds ago “Stay out of this, Tracey. This is none of your business."

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “You can’t just kill him!”

Damien ignored me. With a swift, practiced motion, he slammed the man’s hand onto the table and drove the knife through his fingers.

I closed my eyes unable to bear the man’s screams echoing through the room. When I finally opened my eyes, my stomach churned in disgust urging me to throw up. I stumbled back, my head spinning as I watched Damien pull out a gun and fired a single shot into the man’s head.

"Nooooooo!" I screamed, staring at the lifeless body, my hands trembling. “You’re a monster!” I yelled.

Damien turned to me with a cold expression. “This is what happens to people who don’t pay their debts. Remember that.”

The message in his words was loud and clear even for a deaf person.

Unable to endure the sight. I bolted out of the dining room, up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door behind me.

I couldn’t control my tears anymore. I had just witnessed someone being killed mercilessly and for only a hundred thousand. I couldn’t help but imagine what he would do to me if my father failed to provide the amount. The thought of never being able to see my sister again made my heart shrink.

Damien was truly heartless, just like they said, and he had successfully ruined my morning too. There was no way I would be going out to eat at that dining table again.

Now, the whole house felt like a murder scene, and I couldn’t help but puke all I’d eaten into the bathroom tub. Feeling slightly better, I locked the door and didn’t know when I fell asleep.

____

It had been three days since I stepped out of the room and four days since I had lived here. Earlier, the old maid had come knocking on my door, but since she got no response, she left. I thought Damien would forcefully drag me out or try to break the door down, but he did no such thing. I was grateful for that.

I opened the mini-fridge in the room, which had been stocked with snacks and water and had been my only source of survival these past days.

"Snap!" I exclaimed. I’d run out of supplies and was forced to leave the room.

I carefully sneaked out, hoping Damien wouldn’t see me. I planned to get what I needed and return peacefully. But just as I reached the stairs, there he was, seated in the dining room, sipping his tea as if nothing had happened.

“I see you’ve stopped sulking. Finally decided to stop hiding,” he remarked without looking up.

“I-ehm…” I stammered. “I’m hungry.”

“Then go get some food.”

I walked up to the kitchen to grab a plate of food and was about to head back to my room when his voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours left, Mon Carie,” he reminded me. “That’s how long your father has left.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing.

“And one more thing,” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips. “There's a party tonight. Get ready.”