Chapter 8 - The Cost Of War

Damien didn’t waste any time. As soon as he ended the call, he strode toward the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, his mind already calculating the next steps.

This wasn’t just a threat. It was a declaration of war.

Julian Mercer had crossed a line, and Damien did not tolerate threats to what was his.

Celeste stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. But he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she held herself. She was trying to act like this didn’t bother her, but he knew better.

“You don’t have to handle everything on your own, Celeste.” His voice was low, steady.

She let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Damien turned to face her fully. “This isn’t just about you anymore. Mercer came for both of us. He made this personal.”

Celeste exhaled, rubbing her temples. “It was always personal, Damien. He’s been trying to ruin me for years.”

His eyes darkened. “Then we should’ve ended him years ago.”

She flinched slightly, and for the first time, Damien realized that she had been fighting this battle alone.

Celeste was one of the most powerful women in the industry, but power didn’t make you untouchable. He knew that just as much as she did.

Julian had been chipping away at her foundation for years, and now, he was trying to bring her to her knees.

Damien clenched his fists, pushing away the sharp surge of anger. "I can't let this happen to her. I won't let him ruin her. Not on my watch!" he uttered silently.

Celeste knew she should feel relief, that Damien was taking control, and trying to protect her in a way no one ever had before.

But she wasn’t used to someone standing beside her, ready to go to war on her behalf. For years, she had built walls so high that no one could reach her. She had survived being in this industry by being untouchable and by making sure no one saw her sweat.

But Damie was getting too close. The way he had reacted to that message, the barely restrained fury in his eyes - it unsettled her because that would mean she would have to admit that she mattered to him. and that there was the problem, because she didn’t know how to handle that.

She wrapped her arms around herself, forcing her voice to stay even. “We need to be careful, Damien.”

He studied her for a long moment. “Careful gets you killed.”

Her stomach twisted. “So what? You’re just going to take Mercer out?”

His lips curved into something deadly. “Would that be a problem?”

Celeste stared at him, pulse racing, some dark, secret part of her, the part that had spent years enduring Julian’s attacks, wanted to let Damien burn him to the ground, and that terrified her.

Celeste swallowed hard. “Damien…”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “What?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

His gaze sharpened. “Do what?”

“Trust you.”

For the first time, something flickered in Damien’s eyes. Something raw, butt it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I told you from the beginning,” he murmured. “I don’t lose.”

Celeste let out a slow breath. “Neither do I.”

Damien’s smirk was slow, dark. “Then you better start trusting me, sweetheart, because this here, this is war.”

And the way he said it, Celeste knew that Jukian Mercer was heading for big trouble.

Julian Mercer had no idea what was coming.

Within an hour, Damien had his team working. He didn’t waste time with threats. That was not his style. He went straight for the kill.

“I want everything on Mercer,” he told his head of security, Lucas Cain. “His financials, his contacts, his weaknesses, his family if need be!”

Lucas nodded. “Already on it. But you should know—Mercer isn’t just another journalist looking for scandal. He’s got powerful backers.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care.”

Lucas hesitated. “what about Celeste? How much do you want her involved?”

Damien’s gaze darkened.

Celeste was strong, but Mercer had already done enough damage.

“I want her protected,” he said. “Every move she makes, I want eyes on her.”

Lucas nodded. “Understood.”

Damien leaned back, exhaling slowly. He was powerful for no reason, Damien Sinclair had built his empire on his ability to be ruthless. He never let his emotions dictate his actions. But this wasn’t just business. This was personal because Mercer hadn’t just threatened Celeste but also challenged Damien.

And now he was about to learn just how costly that mistake was.

-

By the time night fell, Celeste was exhausted. The media storm hadn’t let up, and Julian was still feeding the press, pushing his narrative, planting doubts about her relationship with Damien.

And, she felt trapped, trapped by the spotlight, trapped by her emotions, and trapped by Damien because nocmatter how much she wanted to keep her distance, she couldn’t.

When Damien finally returned to the penthouse that night, the tension snapped.

She was waiting for him in the living room, arms crossed. “Did you do it?”

Damien raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“Whatever it is you’re planning.”

He stepped closer. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Celeste clenched her jaw. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

His smirk was slow, deliberate. “And yet, here you are, waiting for me, worried about what I’ve done.”

Her breath caught because despite everything, she wanted to know that he had her back.

Damien studied her for a long moment, then finally, he exhaled. “You don’t have to trust me yet, Celeste,” he murmured. “But you will.”

Standing still, she looked at him, "You think so?"

"No, sweetheart, I don't think so, I know so," he smirked.

Celeste searched Damien’s face for an answer of just how far he was willing to go.

Her fingers curled into fists. “What if you go too far?”

Damien’s lips twitched, but there was no humour in his smirk. “Define ‘too far.’”

Celeste’s stomach twisted. “I mean it, Damien. If you destroy him the way I think you’re planning to, there’s no coming back.”

Damien took a slow step forward. Then another. Until there was barely any space left between them. “I don’t want to come back,” he murmured.

“You’re not afraid of the fallout?” she asked.

Damien reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the storm raging in his eyes.

“The only thing I fear,” he said quietly, “is not ending this before he tries again.”

Celeste knew exactly what he meant.

Julian Mercer was powerful, but Damien Sinclair was relentless.