Damian Wayne Middle Name Novels & Stories

Why would anyone name him something so bland? The Minister of Protocol, who had provided options for his name, should have really reconsidered his choices, and his dad, who had picked this name out of so many suggestions, should have reconsidered too. Rafael shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, Rafael is my middle name. My first name is Damon." Carissa paused. "I know, but do you want me to call you that?" "No, I just didn't want you to be unaware of my full name." "How could I not know your full name? You're my husband."

Damian frowned when he looked at the boys who were a crying mess, he is so overprotective of them and so am I. His eyes turned angry when he looked at their crying faces. "Daddy..." Oliver hugged his leg tightly and Arthur did the same. Olivia named one of the triplets over her name and I named the other as Arthur. Oliver has same features like damian, deep blue eyes and black raven hair while Arthur has grey eyes and black hair like me. Damian lifted both of them up and sat down on sofa placing them on his lap. "What happened, who hurt you..." Damian asked firmly wiping their tears. I can sense the anger in his voice.

Sienna says, walking past Damien. Just as she grabbed the doorknob, Damien spoke up. “You’ve got this, Sienna Williams,” Damien says, laying emphasis on her last name. The name which she took when she married his father, the late Mr Octavio Williams. Sienna gave Damien a smile that didn’t reach her eyes before she closed the door behind her. _____

“That’s the codename they gave you?” “It’s not a codename,” he grumbles sheepishly. “That’s what I am.” “You’re not making any sense.” He shakes his head. “I’ve already said too much.” “Just tell me your name. I can’t very well call out for the Bastard every time I need something. That’s just plain rude.” The man regards me carefully. He doesn’t have the same ferocity as the rest of them. He isn’t as abrasive as the Boss, as cold as One-Eye, as hot-headed as Fists, or as sly as the Closer. The best chance I have of surviving this situation is building a rapport with one of my captors, and I’m pretty sure the Bastard is my best bet. “Damien,” he answers finally. “My name is Damien.”

It was just a coincidence. But the feeling wouldn’t go away. The way the guards acted. The sheer size of this place. Mom’s sudden perfect marriage. I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. “Mom… what did you say Richard’s last name is?” She turned to me with a bright smile, completely missing the tension in my voice. “Voss, sweetheart. Richard Voss. But everyone calls him by his middle name sometimes—Damien. He prefers it in personal settings.” The world tilted. Damien.

He looked like your typical boy next door and not one you would see battling for revenge. "Oooh," he grinned. "You're mesmerized, aren't you?" "Fuck off!" I snapped. "Gladly," he chuckled and turned to go. "Move and I'll gladly pummel you to bits." I threatened. "Who the hell are you?" He sighed. "I'm Damian. D for short. Shall I tell you my middle name, where I live, and place of birth?" "I detest talkative. The only thing saving you right now is my lack of a gun." I spat.

Emma's heart rate was steady at eighty-two—normal, healthy, the kind of rhythm she'd once taken for granted and now monitored constantly. "There's something I need to tell you," Damien said eventually. "About my family. About the Cross name." Emma tensed slightly. "Okay." "I'm changing it. Legally. I don't want to be associated with Marcus and Daniel anymore. Their crimes, their conspiracy, their legacy—I want distance from all of it." Damien looked at her directly. "I'm going back to my mother's maiden name. Damien Hartley." Emma processed this. Damien was severing ties with his family identity, starting over. "That's a big decision."

It was to be expected. I sat next to him, and he took some documents out of his briefcase. "Read them, Junior, please." "Father, don't call me Junior. My name is Damián. My mother tried very hard when choosing that name for me. Don't call me Junior." I snatched the papers and began to read them carefully. "Contract of Concession. The entire Feldman fortune will be ceded to the family's new heir: the third child of Bartolomé Damián Feldman..."

he said politely. I entered and took two chairs away from him. I felt a little awkward facing him alone like this. "Umm... Ms. Lauren, I don't think we've met like this before," Damian said to start the conversation. He was a lawyer and I could see his confidence level was different from most people. He extended his hand to me and his smile never left his lips. "Let's introduce ourselves first, before we start talking about work," he said. "My name is Damian Trent."

Damian chuckled as he recalled his past, "Ah.... Why do I like the name Sira even more? I'm sure Sira has the Joy I've been looking for. "It feels like it's been a long time since I remember this moment," Damian muttered, leaning his body against the work chair that looked very soft and comfortable. He even closed his eyes for a moment. Hoping to dream of meeting Sira or Joy.