Damian X Marinette Novels & Stories

Damien’s palm looked enormous against her pale skin, his dark coat sleeve contrasting sharply with her shoulder blades, a blatant, physical mark of ownership that was being broadcasted to every investor in the room. Damien was shaking hands with ministers from Marseilles, laughing with shipping magnates from Rotterdam, introducing Diane not as his assistant, but as the co-chair of the entire maritime infrastructure. He was practically preening under the heat, his deep laughter booming over the low chatter of the inner circle, his fingers sliding up an inch to feel the smooth, burning warmth of his wife’s skin under the public gaze.

Damian's last name was Moretti. Lorenzo Moretti's Moretti.

Martin recovered fast. He straightened, wiped the slime from his expression, and smiled like a loyal employee greeting his boss. "Mr. Moretti." Damian stepped into the elevator and looked him over. "Out." Martin nodded so quickly he almost folded in half, then slipped past him and disappeared. The doors closed again. Damian turned to me. "What did he do?" I said nothing. Not because I wanted to protect Martin. I wanted him fired, sued, and afraid of elevators for the rest of his life. But another anger had been sitting in my chest since noon.

She said. Maddy's brow creased, but she nodded. “Call me Damian.” I said as Maddy turned to leave. “We look forward to working with you, Damian.” She smiled before disappearing. “Missing your little fuck already?” She shook her head. “That’s sad.” Sipping her drink, she drummed her fingers against the glass. “The mighty Damian Russo has been reduced to chasing a little girl.” She added, clicking her teeth. “That little girl happens to have a hold on me. One you’d never relate to.”

"We're both fools. I'm a fool for loving a woman who doesn't love me. You're a fool for loving a woman who might be dangerous." "Davina isn't dangerous." Damien stood up. He put his coffee cup on the table. "I'll prove that Davina is involved in Matteo's network, and when I succeed, you'll thank me." "I will never thank you." Damien smiled. "We'll see." He turned and walked away. Marco was still sitting in his chair, staring at his now cold cup of coffee.

the beautiful nun with zero basic manners approaches us. “Looks like you both are getting along well,” she says with a sweet smile. “Yes, sister,” Damian answers in that fake, honey-dripping voice of his again. The one I clearly don’t deserve because he’s homophobic as hell. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Sister Mary,” she adds, still sugar-sweet. I raise an eyebrow. “Mary? Do nuns actually pick usernames to match their aesthetic now?” Damian’s hand clamps down on my shoulder, not a flirty squeeze but a "shut your mouth before I kill you" squeeze.

Damian scoffed a wide smile visible on his face he loved the insult I threw his way the rumours were true this man was sick as well as unstable it was hard to rile him up. "I thought my relationship life was a secret. You actually hurt me by pointing that out," he replied. "I mean what's not to love about Damian Russo?" Damian bragged. "Those ladies are missing. Do you think you can give me some relationship advice, since you are getting married to that beautiful lady? What's her name again?" Damian scratched his slightly tousled hair, then snapped his fingers as it he had a eureka moment. "Mia Moretti. Beautiful name for a lovely lady."

His gaze stayed on Marvin’s pale face before he finally said, “No, I’m not.” Then he slipped something from his pocket and handed it to me...it was a card. I turned it over, and there it was: Marvin’s company logo staring right back at me. I didn’t know why, but my heart tripped over itself. Marvin had mentioned this man before… his PA. The one he called calculated, cold, and a strategist. What was his name again… uhm... "Damian. Damian Verano,” he supplied smoothly, almost as if he’d read my thoughts. “I came to check on him.”

Damian couldn't sit and wait for a miracle to come. He couldn't concentrate on his work after thinking about how Taggart would marry Pearl without resistance. He was also the CEO of The Bronk Corporation. However, he was in a distinct line of industry compared to Excellor. After he acknowledged Pearl, Damian changed his mind to do business expansion. "Damn, I must have to find a way out!" he grumbled in annoyance. Pearl had stolen his mind, although he didn't want to admit it. He threw off his pen before taking his phone to call Alonzo. He didn't pick up the phone.

His voice trailed off, but the implication hung heavy: heads would roll, literally or figuratively, in the cutthroat world we'd built together. A sharp knock shattered the moment—Mara, her timing impeccable as always. Damian unlocked the door remotely with a flick of his wrist on the desk panel, and she slipped in, her tablet clutched like a shield, her sharp features etched with a mix of efficiency and concern. She was a force in her own right—mid-forties, with silver-streaked hair pulled into a no-nonsense bun, glasses perched on her nose, and an aura of unflappable competence that had kept Damian's operations running smoothly for years. But today, her eyes darted to me first, assessing, t