Damian Priest Before Wwe Novels & Stories

Damian Smirked as he took out another pen and the bald man almost peed his pants when he realized what Damian was about to do… I stood there like a statue, frozen in fear and unknown to stop myself from staring at them. “You can have the plaza….” He quickly signed the documents but Damian was a complete maniac and would only be satisfied when he's dead.. “See? I signed the documents, please! I was only kidding…” Mr Williams was trembling profusely with no way out of the problem.. He regretted sending his secretary away and also booking a private booth knowing fully Well Damian is Beast. “How Dare you look at her with those filthy eyes of yours?” Damian pointed the pen at his eyes and at this

“Don’t get sentimental on me, Blackwood. I might start to think you like having me around.” Before Ethan could respond, a frantic voice crackled over the comms. **** Damian had sworn to himself, to anyone who bothered listening, that he wasn’t going to help. He’d said it loudly enough for half the warriors to hear: “I’m only here to watch the Almighty Alpha Blackwood burn the world down. I'm not here to fight.” And yet…Here he was doing the unthinkable. He moved with the quiet precision of someone who has spent his life pretending not to care. Slipping away from the training grounds, he made a single call through one of his many shadow channels, informants and trackers he never publicly ackn

Drago notified, “I will give you an estimate, you open that door, you will meet hell, what are you going to do when you are injured?” El Diablo smiled, he didn’t flinch when he was told about his wound neither did he look shocked when he was told of his doom, because one thing was for certain, this was not the end for him. “This,” he said followed by a gunshot. Drago flinched, momentarily showing his pain on his face before concealing it again as the black haired man before him walked up to him. “Now we are both bleeding,” El Diablo said before placing his gun on Drago’s temple as he stood behind him, “and you will open the door.”

And that’s how the Gods were lost to history until a warrior from both Heaven and Hell was born. This is the story of Damian Morningstar. A warrior with Hell’s fiery rage and a glimmer of Heaven’s light within him. With the Gods knowing his true nature he was imprisoned, bound by chains in the Prison of the Damned. He vowed that he would escape and that there would be no one to stand in his way. So, Damian made sure that he had gained his strength as he was bound by two bladed weapons, Heaven’s Light and Hell’s Fury.

“Don’t worry, pay it in. I’m raising a daughter you know.” Damien said. “Okay, and before I forget, I need you to look for someone for me. She goes by the name Jenna Marbles. She is involved in this case.” He dropped a picture of Jenna. Diablo wrote down the name then stared at it for a while. Jenna Marbles sounded familiar to him in some way. He didn’t know if it was the Marbles or the Jenna. He raised a brow. “I feel like I already know this person. Any other information you can leave?”

Avery looked at him and helped him take off his teeshirt, then he helped her lie back on the mattress and pulled down her panties gently before he got rid of his boxers too. Avery gulped when she took a look at his length. He’s so big. she thought. Damian didn’t dare look at her. He cleared his throat nervously and put on the condom. “First of all, he has to prep you,” he continued before opening the bottle of lube and putting some on his hands. “Prep?” “Yeah, you need to get used of having something inside of you,” Damian cringed and felt embarrassed to say such a thing.

Damian then stepped closer to Harvest again. Harvest immediately stepped back. He knew that he would lose quickly when faced with someone like Damian. Damian worked out regularly while he was busy having fun and relying on his people to do everything. Damian kicked Harvest in the stomach until Harvest groaned and wailed again. And he didn't kick him once, as long as Harvest didn't protect his exposed body, then he would keep doing it, because it was like the opponent was giving him a chance. And once Harvest curled to the other side, Damian's feet didn't stop stomping on him. Harvest's men were probably the same way as their employer. They were poorly trained and seemed terrified to face Dam

“Pretty Boy, Ugly get down and see if there’s anything I need to worry about… come back and report and release this guy.” “Yes ma’am.” They nodded and left. And as for you, I turned back to him. This will teach you not to lie next time. I raised the whip and landed it on his thighs. The door creaked open. “Pretty Boy… you’re back so soon.” I said without turning back. “WHAT. THE. HELL.” That voice… Oh no. Damian. He stood there, dressed like a cover model for Mafia magazine holding a drink in one hand and betrayal in the other.

Who knew how long I was going to be in this dark, smelly place without food or water. "Mother, please give me strength," I whispered slowly, trying to comfort myself, for I knew this was just the beginning of my journey. ...... "The girl, how's she?" A young man with stricken features asked as he adjusted himself on his chair. He was dressed in a black suit, which made him look like the devil. Damian was a hired mercenary, a merciless killer who had been trained for years to skillfully eliminate important figures in society. Merely looking at him, he appeared human, but being trained in the laboratory made him stronger, as he had undergone a series of experiments since he was a child.

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.