Damian And Jon Novels & Stories

"Hi. You must be Jonathan." "I am." The tall, gangly fellow with a disturbing comb-over and a bright red pinstripe suit extended his hand. Damon forced himself not to react as he extended his hand. "I'm Damon Bryant. This is my fiancé, Bethany. I'm Matthew's brother." "Lovely! I do believe one of the pieces Matt sent in originally was of you." Jonathan glanced over at Matt, who almost looked ill. "Is that right?"

"Then what kind of role is Damian playing? I heard he went back to the islands?" "Damian?" Soren repeated, rubbing his chin. "Well, he's power-hungry," he said with a shrug. "He wants to keep the islands that he took when Romero went to prison. Damian is not a stupid man though. He knew he wouldn't be able to fight against either Kal or James; therefore, if it was up to him, this war would go on as long as possible."

We are. Damian's reply came back in under thirty seconds. **Damian:** *okay cool. good. I'll handle Reid.* Then, after a beat: **Damian:** *also for what it's worth Aaron you could have just said something instead of making me watch you two be weird about each other for like a month* **Aaron:** *Go to sleep Damian.* **Damian:** *I'm just saying* **Aaron:** *Goodnight.* **Damian:** *congrats tho genuinely* 👋

“You look perfect like this. My perfect mess.” I pulled back with a wet gasp, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re—horrible.” He smirked. “And you’re trembling.” “Shut up,” I hissed, and took him back into my mouth before I could second-guess myself. This time, his breath broke. “Dio onnipotente.” (Almighty God.)

It was war smelling the mate bond. I thought the bond was dead. “You smell like power now,” he growled. “Like storms and the moonlight. What really happened to you?” I stood tall, refusing to hide my body. “I survived. I was what you tried to kill.” Damon’s jaw dropped. For the first time, I felt pain appear right in his eyebrows. “I was wrong, Annie. Cassandra lied to me. I only allowed pride and fear to make me throw away the best thing in my life… my coming Luna.”

Damian realized he'd gripped too hard. He let go fast. The pain hit sharp through my whole wrist. I looked down at the bruise already spreading across my skin, deep purple forming fast. The dirty work of the Coronelli family had always been Damian's specialty: tracking down debtors, clearing out traitors, the kind of work that built strength and paid well. After years of it, he was stronger than almost anyone, the kind of man who could snap a neck barehanded if he had to.

Hamdan shook his head, then looked at Key who suddenly stood next to him and hugged him. "Hey, you haven't left earlier?" Hamdan exclaimed and seeing Key shaking his head in his arms made Hamdan just take a deep breath. From a distance, Josua, Tito, Max, Aldo and Damian who looked up at the uwuh in the morning only made the four of them stare at each other. But before Joshua acted, Damian immediately spoke up. “Don't think about such things this time. Get back to work immediately!” Damian looked at them then immediately fled.

Shame and guilt. Damian wasn't going to go to Brylski's room, he wanted to talk to him through the balcony, so he put his phone down on the night table. When he returned to his room after the intoxicating moments, he reflexively checked his phone and saw that someone had tried to contact him. And it wasn't anyone. It was Justyna, his fiancée! Damian, the biggest moron and scoundrel in the world, had a fiancée and slept with a guy! And not once, but twice in one night!

Mark snapped. "Exactly like you said, Emberlynn is my mate, and I don't know why you are getting so worked up because of it," Damien said, his voice calm. Too calm that Mark felt as though he wasn't the one speaking. Although he had his calm moment, the Damien he knew would have exploded and sent him out of his office as soon as he stepped in.

The Queen turned to the King, her mouth opening to argue, but his raised hand silenced her. Damien’s shadow fell over me as he crouched slightly, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Don’t look, little flame,” he murmured, the words gentle despite the tension in his tone. “You don’t need to see this.” The trapdoors fell with a sickening thud. My father, my mother, my brother—gone. A scream tore from my throat, raw and uncontrollable. I collapsed to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me. I didn’t need to see it; the sound alone was enough to shatter what was left of my heart.