Damian X Flatline Mga Nobela at Kwento

Mister Yair checked Damian with medical equipment and soon came to a conclusion. "Mister Yair, how is Damian?" Patrick blurted out asking. "If I'm not mistaken, Damian has been attacked and suffered damages to his nerves in the past, which worsen over time, rendering him immobile," Mister Yair said confidently. "Yes, that's right. I've indeed suffered injuries before at the hands of the Libertons." Damian nodded. The Libertons were the Scammells' competitors in business and Damian had been involved in a conflict with the Libertons two years ago, which ended with him being injured by a few Libertons. Since then, he started experiencing discomfort in his legs, which progressed into a complete

And again, until his growls turned to whimpers and his body went limp in my grip. A heavy silence followed. With all three down, I shifted back, ignoring my own pain, and ran back to Damian. He was still breathing. Barely. But blood was soaking through his shirt. Too much. Too fast. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?” he asked weakly, his eyes meeting mine as I dropped to my knees beside him. “Don’t say that,” I replied flatly, already ripping his shirt open to see the damage.

Damian As we’re sitting here in church everyone is silent. Not a single person wants to get on Skulls bad side and I don’t fucking blame them. He’s ruthless and doesn’t give a shit if we’re 1% or not. His word is law and that’s that. “Your club looks good D.” He looks over my members who are all giving their best scowls. “None look like their gonna shit themselves.. yet” He lets out a scoff and then sets his eyes on me.

Juliette said, thinking about the way Lucas held Betty’s hands earlier at the café. "That shit with that Barbie is everything but love," Damian rolled his eyes. "Didn't you see how she acted last time? There was no fucking love in her eyes." "And him…" "He loves you!" Damian yelled. " Don't be stupid, Juliette, please don't." "But–" "Shuu!" Damian covered her mouth with his cold hand. "Nonsense unaccepted." Juliette chuckled and rested her head on Damian's shoulder. 🎶🎶🎶🎶

Damian shouted, and Emma rolled her eyes and pushed him outside the room. “The doctor said it was a paracetamol overdose. Her body couldn't support such an amount of pills, but now she's alright. They treated her well.” “That's a relief!” Tom put his hand on his heart. “But where the hell were you?!” Emma shouted at Damian. “I was at the studio,”

His grip tighten a little bit more, crushing my wrist as he dragged me, almost throwing me down the remaining flight of stairs. “Bitch.” he sneered, pushing me into the floor beside the bloody, kneeling guy Bast was torturing a while ago. Luckily, I had braced myself early, enough to save myself from swimming on the floor. I glared at Matias before I turn my gaze towards Bast. But the moment Bast saw me, the world seemed to stop as he turns a shade paler than the ghost. “Diana?” At the mention of my biological mother's name, the alarm in my head had gone off into a frenzy. My tongue seemed to glue itself at the top of my mouth, rendering me unable to say anything.

I don’t think so. Damian eyed her with the same astonishment he would have shown had the dragon in question just landed on his polished deck. You are angry with me?’ ‘Furious. Livid.’ ‘Then that makes two of us.’ He snapped out the words. ‘But before we have this conversation I want the doctor to check you over. You had a nasty blow to the head. Do you have a headache? Blurred vision?’ ‘I’m seeing you perfectly clearly, Damian, and believe me you are not looking good.’

Damon’s POV Damon Montague sat across from Harrison Kendrick, his eyes locked on the older man's face. Kendrick's expression was calm, but Damon could see the tension in his shoulders. "So, Mr. Kendrick," Damon said, his voice smooth as silk. "I understand you're looking to make a deal." Kendrick nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I am. I want to expand my business, and I need your help to do it." Damon leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. "I'm listening."

“What do we do now?” Damian didn’t answer immediately. His mind raced, jaw tight. “Tell the delegate…” he began, voice low, steady, but his eyes dark as fire. “…to make the Wilson server slow down.” The command hung heavy in the air. Everyone froze. No one moved. Then Damian turned away, his reflection caught in the glass sharp, powerful, haunted. He whispered to himself, “What the hell are we all becoming?” Outside, thunder cracked over the city skyline, and somewhere across town, Aria’s laptop pinged a new notification lighting up the screen.

I looked at his face, the grief written plainly across it, and I pulled my hands from his. He caught them. Held on, hands shaking, voice barely holding. "Quinn, please—" "Forgive me. We'll have another one. If you want a child, we'll try again, we can still—" I looked at him steadily. "That's a shame." "The crash damaged my uterus. I can't have children." Damian's face went blank. The officers stepped in and guided him away from me. I asked to be taken back to the hospital, citing the pain.