Damian Priest Age Novels & Stories

"High Priestess, I'll take good care of myself." I cut her off quickly, terrified she'd say my soul core was about to give out. Damian saw me as Isolde's personal "healing machine." If he knew my soul essence was drying up and I couldn't give much anymore, he might do what he did last time – go after my brother, Liam. I couldn't let that tragedy happen again! But Damian's brow was furrowed, his eyes darting between me and the High Priestess, like he suspected something.

Damian Thorn is a 35 year old, his 6.2 feet tall handsome guy. He is a Greek god that makes girls drool, his the definition of an ideal guy yet behind this perfect image of wealth lies a psychotic maniac. His feared by most due to horrid tales about his shady business dealings, some say he has no soul and those who know him speak not of him due to fear of him dealing with them. His family knows his a serial killer, they've tried different kinds of help from different institutions to try and offer him help his mother always wonders what she did wrong during his upbringing for him to end up this way.

“ Thank you mr Karlo . “ said Damian . “ Call me father ! “ said mr Karlo . “ Thank you father . “ said Damian with a smile . “ Good boy ! “ said mr Karlo smiling then went back and sat next to madam Laura . Everyone kept silent as the priest opened the book and read the prayers . “ Will you Damian Wright take sir Antonio as your husband , love him , be loyal to him , cherish him through sickened and poverty till death parts you ? “ said the priest . “ I do ! “ said Damian . “ Will youAntonio Landar take sir Damian as your husband , love him , be loyal to him , cherish him through sickened and poverty till death parts you ? “ said the priest .

"Next case." They walked out of the courthouse in silence. The sun was bright. The steps were crowded with people—lawyers, defendants, families waiting for their loved ones. Damian sat down on the stone railing and put his head in his hands. "Kids," Sebastian said. "She wants us to coach kids." "I heard." "I hate kids." Damian looked up. "You ARE a kid." "I'm twenty-nine years old." "You threw a zucchini in your pants at a grocery store. You sang Taylor Swift at karaoke. You got us pulled over for having sex in a car because you yelled 'bit busy, officer' at a cop." Damian stood up. "You are absolutely a child."

"Damian!" I stood up and came out from behind my desk to greet Damian. We hugged each other tightly. It had been a long time since I had seen him, since he had returned to Italy to take care of his sick father who had finally passed away. "You've gotten thinner," I said, observing Damian closely. "Is everything hard there?" Damian sighed and walked over to the couch, then plopped down on it. "My father was really an amazing man," Damian said in a gloomy tone. "He had prepared everything for me and my siblings who all came from different mothers."

"Then there's Elias. He's the oldest. Thirty-five. He runs the family business. He's tough, serious, doesn't smile much. But he has a soft heart under all that. He took your disappearance hard. He was twelve when you were taken. He blamed himself for years because he wasn't there to protect you." "That's not his fault," I said. "I know. We all know. But Elias doesn't forgive himself easily. When he meets you, he's probably going to promise to protect you forever. That's just who he is." I liked the sound of that. Protection. Safety. Things I'd never really had. "I'm thirty-two," Damian continued. "I'm a lawyer. I was nine when you disappeared. I remember you a little bit. You used to follow

the Priest said. Damian unveiled his bride. Seeing her teary eyes, his heart sank. He looked into her eyes and captured her lips. It was soft and tasted like candy, which he savored. It was Layla’s first kiss and this was not how she had planned for it to happen. At the same time, a lady stood at the entrance. She arrived late and her eyes met a heartbreaking scene. It wasn’t a mistake. Damian was about to kiss Layla the first time the priest asked him to do so but was Interrupted by

Celia’s POV “Hold the headboard. Don’t let go.” My stepbrother’s voice was low and absolute. I was already on my knees in the center of his bed, naked, heart racing. The wooden headboard was cool under my palms when I reached forward and wrapped my fingers around the top rail. I was nineteen. Damian was twenty-five. Mom and his father were two floors down at a late dinner with friends. The house was ours for at least another three hours. That knowledge made every order he gave feel heavier.

He gritted his teeth and roared in a low voice, “Damian, you have no idea who you have just messed with. I will kill you all! I will kill every damn member of your family, and you will watch me do it! I will make sure that you endure pain worse than death itself!” … Meanwhile, Damian was basking in his wife’s praises as she congratulated him. “Honey, I never knew that you are such a bad person. Why didn’t you tell me that you had such a grand plan?” Damian laughed. He was sitting in his new office as he watched people moving up and down and around the city. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I just wanted them to think that they have the upper hand, and I am nothing but a poor church mouse.”

Harry then glared angrily at Christine and yelled, "Christine! If anything happens to Grandpa, I'm never going to forgive you! And that stupid security guard as well! You're all dead meat!" Damian just shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Don't worry. He's just having a fit. He won't die. Haven't you heard of the saying that people who die young are good people favored by the gods? Obviously, he's not one of them. I bet he still has a hundred more years ahead of him." Jerome happened to wake up just then after managing to catch his breath. He heard the last part of Damian's words and got so angry that his eyes flipped to the back of his head and nearly went into another fit.