The Gathering

Damien POV

A low groan left my throat, one arm dragging across the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold.

My eyes snapped open.

For a moment, my mind was fogged—fragments of the previous night flickering in disjointed flashes. A face blurred by desire and something darker, when clarity hit me.

I sat up sharply, my body still carried the aftereffects of whatever had been slipped into my drink.

Perhaps aphrodisiac.

“Damn it…” My gaze swept the room. The young man was gone.

Only the faint scent lingering in the air and the disordered sheets remained as proof that he had even been there.

My expression darkened, that wasn’t supposed to happen. No one walked out of my space without my permission.

Swung my legs off the bed, already reaching for my phone. Within seconds, my phone was in my hand and I dialed a number. “Luca.” The call connected almost instantly.

“Yes, boss.”

“I want everything on the person who was in my suite last night.” my voice dripping with malevolence as I gave him instructions. “CCTV footage, hotel records, staff logs—everything. I want a name, background, and affiliations. If he exists, I want to know it.”

“Understood. Is he a target?” Luca asked me. When my eyes flicked toward the floor and stopped. Something white peeked out from beneath the bed.

I stood up, crossing the room in slow steps. Bending down, I pulled out the sheet of paper.

My gaze narrowed as I scanned it. “…Interesting.” My grip tightened slightly on the page.

“Correction,” I said into the phone. “He’s not just anyone.”

“Do you want him brought in?”

"No" my lips curved—not quite a smile. "Not yet. Find him first.” The line went dead.

I glanced once more at the empty bed, then at the paper in my hand in deep thought.

__________

The hotel’s revolving doors clicked closed behind me. The streets outside were just beginning to stir, early risers scurrying to work, taxis honking, the hum of the city rising into a dull roar.

I walked towards the black Maybach waiting by the curb. The driver standing by it stepped forward immediately, opening the rear door with courtesy. “Morning, sir,” the man said in a professional tone.

Sliding into the seat, the leather was cool against my skin. The city blurred past in streaks of gray and gold as the driver guided the car through winding streets, taking routes that avoided traffic cameras and prying eyes.

The Maybach left the main roads behind, entering narrower alleys that twisted and turned until the city’s noise became muffled, replaced by the subtle thrums of the tires on gravel and the occasional rustle of wind through overgrown trees.

After nearly half an hour, a secluded compound appeared. High walls of dark stone, barbed wire along the top, and a single, heavily reinforced gate marked its perimeter.

Security cameras rotated slowly, watching every inch of the grounds. My eyes flicked to each one briefly, noting coverage and blind spots.

The Maybach slowed and stopped. I stepped out of the car. The air was different here—thicker and heavier.

I walked through the gate without ceremony. Within the compound, a large building loomed: black steel and reinforced glass, more fortress than office.

Inside, the atmosphere changed entirely. Bulging, scarred men stood in tight formation along the walls, each one a living testament to survival.

Their muscles stretched against the fabric of tight shirts, veins like cords visible across forearms and necks.

The instant they saw me, they straightened up and gave a fearful salute. Their eyes avoided mine completely, as though daring to look might draw punishment which would of course.

I did not bother to respond to their greeting not even sparing them a glance.

From the shadows emerged another figure—a man who seemed impossibly large, his frame filling the doorway before me.

His presence was not menacing; it carried a friendly undertone that contradicted the harsh world they inhabited. But those close to him will definitely say otherwise.

His hand shot out instinctively, and I accepted the gesture briefly.

“You’ve returned,” the man said, voice deep, resonant. He moved smoothly to stand beside me, eyes scanning the room.

My gaze remained forward. "I assume Luca has sent details?”

The huge man nodded several times. “Everything we have on the person from last night. Names, background, affiliations. All compiled and waiting for you.”

“Good,” I replied. “And the men?”

The scarred men shifted slightly, but none dared speak. The huge man smiled faintly, catching my subtle nod. “They know their orders. Nothing moves without your command. Not a thing escapes without our notice.”

My eyes swept over the room once. “Fear is not loyalty,” I said softly, almost to myself. “I want both. And if I do not see it…” I left the sentence unfinished, but the implication was enough.

The huge man chuckled lightly, a low, human sound amidst the tension. “They understand, Damien. They live by your word. Trust me, they are more prepared than you can imagine.”

I turned my attention to the folder on a table nearby.

Inside were the reports Luca had sent—images, data, records from the hotel, staff logs, CCTV footage. Every detail was meticulously gathered and presented.

My eyes scanned each page, catching discrepancies and potential weaknesses.

“Victor” I said finally, turning to the huge man. “If anything is missing, or incomplete, I want to know immediately. No excuses.”

“You will have it,” the man replied. “All of it is accounted for. We have cross-checked three times.”

Curving my lips I replied. “Good. Prepare the men. There must be movement. I want all intel on anyone connected to this… situation. Nothing is irrelevant.”

The room seemed to tense further, the scarred men aware of the words spoken.

“You trust Luca completely?”

“Trust is earned,” Tapping my hands on the table before turning to him. “And Luca has delivered so far. But trust is not permanent. I will see this through my own eyes when the time comes.”

The huge man nodded, unshaken. “As you command.”

Silence fell over the room, the only sound the faint scrape of shoes against the floor and the hum of fluorescent lights. Damien folded the folder neatly, placing it on the table.

He began to walk through the room, the scarred men flinched ever so slightly with each movement, though none dared speak. The huge man followed behind.

“You will raid a place today,” Damien said finally, stopping at the center of the room. “All of you. There is no margin for error. Anyone who hesitates will be sent above.”

The huge man smiles widely, “They can't refuse, those who did were sent above.”

“Good. Then we begin preparation. Nothing will be left to chance. Anyone involved, anyone even remotely connected…” He let the words hang. The implication was clear.

"Luca will continue feeding information,” the huge man said quietly. “Shall I contact him now to accelerate delivery?”

My lips pressed together. “Yes. I want every piece of data, every movement, every name cross-checked. I want everything mapped".

The huge man’s nod was subtle, almost imperceptible. “It will be done. No detail will escape us.”

Turned back to look at the huge man. "By tonight I want to see those people who have the guts to drug me. Move out!!"

The men all enter the big bus, already parked out. The huge man also followed them. Tonight, the city will be noisy.