Damian Wayne Killed Mga Nobela at Kwento

“I wish I could give you that again.” “You can’t,” she said softly. “No one can.” The fire crackled between them. The warmth brushed her face, but the chill inside her didn’t fade. She turned her head slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Damian… did you really kill my father?” The question landed like a blade. He didn’t look surprised. Instead, he took a slow breath and met her eyes. “Yes,” he said finally. “But not the way your brother told you.”

Mark said. “By taking my spot and ending my life??” Damian asked angrily. “Bingo. I wanted to take your spot as the Mafia Don but killing was never part of the plan at first.” Mark answered. “You do know that to take my spot, you have to kill me first.” Damian said. “Yes. That is why I changed my plan. I had help from your love right here.” He pointed at Ana.

Damien directly crushed Zayn's leg, he preferred slow death snapping the veins on their necks, disemboweled some organs, letting them die slowly and painful. Zayn groaned in pain his back full of sweat, he didn't want fight anymore. "Resisting is futile.. death is inevitable..." Damien wrapped his fingers around Zayn's neck elegantly, earning a scoff from him. "You'll get your retribution! You'll die an horrible death..." Damien chuckled, he wasn't dumb he could differentiate good from bad. The people he killed they didn't have one ounce of good in them, only black heart and vile mouths.

Hand the drive to him, tell him everything, and watch Eze burn. Or plug it in myself. End the merger. End Damian’s empire. End us. The door opens. Damian steps in, blood on his sleeve again, but not his. Eyes bright with victory. He sees me on the cot. Smiles, slow, dangerous. “We got them,” he says. “HiAce driver. Two shooters. They’re in the basement now. Talking.” He crosses the room. Kneels beside the cot. Kisses me, deep, claiming.

I did not come to scream or strike. “You got him killed,” I said quietly. The words did not shake, but they landed heavy in the room. Vanessa flinched, her jaw tightening as she looked away. “I’m not the one that pulled the trigger,” she whispered. “But he died because of you,” I replied. My chest tightened, and the pain got sharp but manageable. “Damian is gone because you didn't know when to stop.” She pressed her lips together, her shoulders shaking as she struggled to hold herself.

Damien winced in pain, gazing as blood oozed out of the wound, but he didn't let go. "Why are you all watching him? He's injured!" Emberlynn yelled, but no one made a move to assist him. They all continued to watch. She wondered if they were leaving him to fight because he was the Alpha since he'd have a better chance to defeat the beast or if they just wanted to watch the show. Whichever it was, she didn't like it. When it seemed like an eternity passed, Damien delivered a crushing blow to the bear's neck, severing its spine and killing it instantly. She believed he had used his werewolf strength.

We saw Neal approaching Qiatssiah, smirking. Damian was ready to tear him into pieces when I grabbed his arm. This isn't the right moment. " why?" he asked, calming his nerves. " whyyyyyyyy?" this time he shouted at Neal. " why? Seriously Damian Black? Did you really not recognize me? You remember Antonio Romanov? I bet you do. Because it was your fucking father who killed his own Beta. You remember?" Neal shouted. Damian was standing there, stunned. He was reminiscing his past. What happened fourteen years back!

“This wasn’t about killing your father.” I turned to him, startled. “What?” “If someone wanted him dead…” He looked toward David’s room. “…they’ve had weeks to do it.” I said nothing, the thought striking me with new force. It hadn’t occurred to me amid the panic. Damien continued quietly, his voice low and measured. “They waited until he woke up.” Another silence stretched between us. “Which means they weren’t afraid of him dying. They were afraid of what he might remember.”

About how I'd managed to grab the piece of metal and stab him. As I spoke, I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, a darkness entering his eyes. He was trying to hide it, but I could see the rage simmering just beneath the surface. When I was finished, he didn't say anything for a long moment. He just sat there, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. "He's dead." "He’s what?" My eyes widened. "But... I saw him. He was bleeding." "He didn't make it," Damian said, his voice flat. "The puncture wound severed an artery. He bled out before the police could get him to the hospital."

With a signal, two men—badly beaten—were dragged from the car. Wilson went pale. “Are these your men?” Damien asked, smiling. “Tut tut tut…” He shot them both. “Sign, or you die next.” “Fine! I’ll sign, just don’t kill me!” “You made me kill two people. I’m feeling so bad,” Damien said sarcastically. Wilson quickly signed and handed the paper back. “I’ve signed it! Please let me—” BANG. Damien pulled the trigger. “So easy,” he muttered, smiling. “Dispose of them. Clean it up.”