Damian Romeo Age Novels & Stories

"That's irrelevant." "Always grumpy." Damian chuckled. "everyone knows you're the man of the company. So cheers to that." "Whatever." "Here, drink up. It's a 1945 Romanée-Conti. Even a saint still needs a vice when the world is this loud." Julian took the glass, eyes scanning the crowd for his P.A "Maya isn't here yet?" "Forget about her for now and cheers to five years of the Valentino International." Damian said clicking their glasses, "And also, five years of being the most unreachable man in New York City," Damian added, clinking his glass against Julian's. "Proud of you man."

But it burned. “You’re twenty four,” Damian said quietly. “I’m thirty eight. I’m engaged to a woman whose family controls half the shipping routes on the east coast. And your father would burn this building to the ground if he knew what I was thinking right now.” Alex’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure Damian could hear it. “What are you thinking right now?” Damian’s thumb brushed along Alex’s lower lip. The contact was electric. Alex’s entire body reacted, heat pooling low and insistent.

Damien said flatly. Roman crossed his arms. “She definitely shouldn’t stay with you.” Damien took one slow step forward. Careful. Controlled. Dangerous. “You’re testing my patience.” Roman didn’t move. “You’ve had a possessive streak since boarding school. Nice to see nothing changed.” Vivian froze slightly. Boarding school? Interesting. Very interesting. Damien’s eyes sharpened instantly. “You know nothing about me anymore.” “No,” Roman replied calmly. “I know exactly who you are.”

Lucas smirked trying to get his attention. "I didn't summon you. I asked you to come." "That's what a summons is." Damien finally looked up. He studied his friend for a moment the way he studied most things without hurry and without giving away what he was thinking, "April Sterling," he said while Lucas rolled his eyes. “Yeah…” "She's seventeen," Damien said. "I know how old she is." "Then explain to me what you're doing." Lucas shifted slightly. "It's not what it looks like."

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.

"I see you told them." "I wasn't going to let you—" "Oh, I was the least of your problems, you idiot." Romero closed his eyes, wheezing. "That b*stard Damian wants what I have. Horace was meant to get it—to get the—" He coughed, blood spraying across Troy's shirt. Troy leaned back, glancing over at me before looking back down at the man, who was laughing again. "Get what?" Troy growled, growing impatient with obvious hatred in his voice.

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.

“You and her. Nothing else matters.” Damon, once the feared mafia king, sits under the stars with Rhian by his side and their daughter asleep in his arms. No blood, no vengeance, no thrones—just the quiet, fragile peace of a family finally whole. And for the first time, Rhian believed him.

"You can't compete with me, Amar. Damien loves me more and more." "Forever more, uhm?" "I love you both, mom. Equally", Damien shouted into the phone. "You see?" I tried to imagine the way he would be peeking at me. "He's still a kid. He doesn't know he loves me more. Besides, I'm sure he is saying this because you are near him." "Oh, Nina", my heart fluttered at that instant. When was the last time Amar called me by my name? "Damien is 21. He is no longer a kid. He had sex with a girl yesterday and she is already puking around."

"Yeah, I am. Damien assured me that the movie crap isn't him and he doesn't run around killing people. So, yeah, I'm okay with it. I may have to take a vacation after this, but I'm okay with it." He was getting more comfortable around the two and he relaxed more into the chair. He finished his coffee before it got cold. He was sitting there thinking about his conversation with Damien and that he spoke Latin. Roman Latin to be specific, according to Damien himself. Did that make him a priest before he was changed? Latin? Why was that sticking in his head? OH YEAH! Now I remember! My brother had a t-shirt and the school suspended him for it. Mom and Dad would never tell me what it said. What w