Novel & Cerita Damian Wayne Grandfather

“I’ll be careful.” “And there’s something else,” he said, sitting up and pulling me with him. He looked me straight in the eye. “I need to tell you the whole truth about who I am. Because you deserve to know.” THE TRUTH ABOUT DAMIEN We sat on the edge of the bed, covered by the sheets. Damien took a deep breath and started talking. “My family, the Vane family, we established our roots decades ago,” he began. “But not just through business. My grandfather built an empire that handles security, intelligence, and… let’s just say, things that the government can’t handle.”

We both walked silently into the house and there we met Riley, Darius (Damian’s grandfather), and his parents. Riley immediately rushed to hug me. “I’m so glad you could come and a little heads up, grandpa is mad so try to steer clear of him.” She said. I watched Damian and his jaw tightened. His eyes were locked on his grandfather and he was looking at him like he had seen some kind of enemy. I already knew why though, he hated his grandfather because he had broken him and Lily apart years ago. It seems like after all this while he still hasn’t forgiven the old man.

“You don’t look like a man who just came from one of your usual midnight adventures. What’s wrong?” Damien smirked faintly. “Trust me, this one’s bigger than a woman trying to cling to my bed.” “Then it must be serious,” Mark said, chuckling as he signaled the waiter. Damien swirled his whiskey before speaking. “My grandfather had a heart attack some days ago but he’s stable now. The only thing is that he’s not playing games anymore. He’s given me an ultimatum.” Both men leaned forward. “What kind of ultimatum?” Daniel asked.

Perhaps it was because I obtained Uncle Victor's whole attention on me. "If you don't prefer Dami, I have got lots of other young men t–" "Grandpa, this matter requires your opinion." A cold voice interrupted us. I looked up and recognised it was Damien. The eldest grandson of Victor Fernandez. The coldest of the three. His one look was enough to kill a few people. Cold, daunting, and dangerous. "Won't you see who's here to meet us, Dami?" "Hi." He barely glanced at me and pivoted his attention to his grandfather.

Alexander tried to make Damien understand his point. Damien glared at his father. "You once loved my mother very much, father. You know how much you were affected by her death. Then why can't you understand my emotions now? She is still alive. She will come back for me. She knows very well what it would do to me if at all she leaves me. The day she leaves me is the day Damien Xavier Bishops date of death" he declared with finality.

“That empire was built on blood and silence. Damian has spent half his life trying to clean what can’t be washed away.” “His father…” I began carefully, “what kind of man was he?” The air in the room changed — cooler now, still but heavy. “Brilliant,” she said finally. “But cruel. He saw people as assets, not souls. Damian was different even then — too gentle to survive in that world. I think his father resented that.” I could hear something fragile in her voice, like an old wound reopening. “Did he ever tell you what really happened before his father died?”

Damian Today I’m going to the shop. It’s been about a week since my uncle Skull left and everything has been calm. I’m keeping my guard up but I’m glad there hasn’t been any retaliation for me kicking him out. As I walk in the custom bike shop, one of the many businesses the club owns, I notice two of the mechanics arguing and it’s getting louder. One of them a prospect named Koda is going toe to toe with my seargant at arms Ax.

It had been more than a dozen hours since he texted her. Claire always answered him immediately. Now, she dared to ignore his messages? His dark expression did not go unnoticed. It even made Serena ask him what was wrong. He shook his head and said nothing. Carefully, he escorted her out of the obstetrics ward, stayed with her through lunch, and made sure she got home safely. Only then did Damian drive back to the company. The moment he stepped through the doors, one of his subordinates hurried over to report to him that his father, Victor Grant, had returned from his world tour. He was calling for all the senior management to meet in the conference hall.

"Six weeks is a long time to sit across a dinner table from her." "Shorter than losing the case because we moved on month five instead of month six." I didn't argue. Damien called the second family himself that week, a widower who'd lost his sister to a slow illness that never had a name until it stopped mattering. He came off the call quiet and didn't tell me what was said until I asked twice. "He remembers a clinic," Damien said finally. "Nobody ever asked him before." "Will he sign a statement." "He said yes before I finished the question."

"Vaughn said Cole men don't forgive people who make them look like fools. Is that your grandfather talking, or you?" Damien turned a pen over in his fingers for a long moment. Then he set it down. "My grandfather came home from a war with nothing and a conviction that softness was how men lost everything. My father inherited the company and none of the discipline — he drank, he gambled, he let people close who only wanted what he had. I was twenty-four when he died. I chose the version of myself that meant nobody could get close enough to cost me what he lost." He looked at me. "So. Both, I suppose. Him, through me."