Damian Priest Age Novels & Stories

--- ### Damian's POV The prison chaplain quietly entered Damian's cell. "You have another visitor." Damian frowned. "I've already had one." "This one insisted." Minutes later, Damian entered the visitation room expecting Michael. Instead... A young woman sat alone behind the glass. She couldn't have been older than twenty-five. She wore a simple gray coat. Her blonde hair was tied neatly behind her head. When she looked up, her eyes immediately filled with tears. "Damian..." He frowned. "I'm sorry..."

“If I stay careful, if I stay useful, I can get what you need without tipping anyone off. Just… give me the space to do it.” Damian’s patience had never been generous. Tonight it was almost gone. “My patience is thin,” he said. “Blaze is moving faster than I like. Every week he takes another route, another shipment. I will not keep bleeding money while you play house with a priest. You have three months. Get me what I want, or I will sell your organs and treat myself to a very expensive dinner with the proceeds.” The words landed like ice water. I felt the blood leave my face.

She sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. “Can I ask you something?” she said softly. “Anything.” “When did it start?” she asked. “Your condition. When was your first reaction?” Damian was quiet for a long moment. He looked down at his hands. “I was sixteen,” he said, his voice low. “My parents died in a car crash. I was at school when they called. Just… a phone call. ‘Your parents are gone.’ No warning. No goodbye. Just gone.” Her chest tightened.

I ask him. “I have always wondered why you never asked. Damian asked years ago. But I will gladly share it with you,” he tells me. Shocking me that Damian knows and never mentioned anything. “I was born in London in 1930; I still recall the end of the Second World War, or as we know it to be, the end of the thousand-year war. I was so deeply affected by the events, bombs waking me up from sleep, friends losing their fathers and older brothers. I decided to train as hard as possible; I wanted to make a difference and save the world. I joined the military to protect the weak and save them all. I lied about my age and joined just before my 15th birthday. Soldiers were still being sent out on pe

Damien lowered his gaze and took a sip of the red wine. His movements were graceful and dignified, but Mr. Dickson and Ciara had no time to appreciate them. He glanced at Mr. Dickson, "Did you mention that you want to drink until I am content?" Mr. Dickson was momentarily shocked and inquired, "I'm not sure how much will satisfy you?" "I know that," chuckled the young man next to him. Mr. Dickson gazed at him and asked, "Please explain, Mr. Damien." The young man sitting next to Damien appeared to be only 23 years old, with a striking appearance and the cynicism of a family member in every gesture.

Her heart did some somersaults and with each breath, the knots in her stomach got tighter. Once the priest was done with his piece, they faced each other to do the vows and she came face to face with Dominic. There was a sight you didn't get to see every day. He looked just as she remembered him. Tall and slim, not to mention handsome. With a square jaw. The same eyes that had haunted her dreams for the past five years. The only thing that had changed was how he styled his hair. Now it was all black curls neatly combed back above his head.

"You understand my situation and are very much aware of how dangerous it is for you to keep coming here." "You need not bother yourself about that. Besides, I look fine. Do I look like who's dying anytime soon?" Mark asked, assessing himself. He couldn't tell the same for Damien, though. With the appearance of a twenty-five-year-old, tall, domineering, he was, in fact, old. Damien was times six of the present age, he was assuming. Mark was right, Damien mused. He looked hale and hearty and wasn't even exhibiting any of the symptoms of the others.

“Wait, How old is he? And when do we get to meet our young master?” Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s five,” he answered calmly. The reaction was immediate chaos. “Five?!” “He’s five and we didn’t know about him until now?!” “We demand visitation rights!” “Boss, this is betrayal!” Damian sighed in annoyance. “As for when you will meet him,” he added casually, “that depends on how fast you complete the task I just assigned.” Instant silence. Then— “Understood!” “Consider them finished!” “They’ll be bankrupt before morning!” “Not a single penny will be left to their name!” “They dared bully our young master?!” “This is war!”

he said, and soon enough, his hands were on her cheeks already, while he gave her a light peg before he continued. “It all started since I was young.” “Wait,” Lila also interrupted his narration as he did to her earlier. “I also need you to promise me one thing: that you'll continue to love me, as I'll also tell you some important things you ought to know about me.” “Sure, I don't think there's anything that can stop me from loving you,” he promised. “Alright, so it all started when I was fifteen." Damian began. While growing up, he was diagnosed with a heart problem at the tender age of four. He was from an average family of five.

Luca replied. "In that case, I'd like to talk to you for a moment here," Damian replied. "What is it, sir? Is it something serious?" Luca visibly stiffened as Damian also looked very serious at that moment. Damian chuckled softly and shook his head at Luca's tension. Luca was like a younger brother to him. Luca had worked for Damian since he was 12 years old and had followed Damian everywhere he went. They were 4 years apart, at which point Damian was 16 years old.