Damien X Pip Novels & Stories

“Yeah. It has been a while. Come and sit. What have you been up to?” “Work,” Damien replied easily, taking the seat opposite him. “Been out of the country for a bit. Just got back.” It was a lie. He hadn’t left the country at all. He had been watching. Planning. Waiting. But his smile was effortless. “And you?” Damien continued. “How’ve things been?” Xavier exhaled slowly. “Complicated.” “That bad?” Xavier hesitated. Then, because this was Damien — because he had once been the person Xavier trusted most — he spoke.

He’s collateral damage and a replaceable one too. I could still remember the first time Nicholas saw me. The way he looked at me standing in the pouring rain, uncaring, head held high while glaring at the distance. And the moment our skin touch as he dragged me out of the downpour, I knew right then and there that he will die painfully in my hands. His whole existence smelled deliciously dangerous that I can't help but devour. Ciro, would not mourn for him for long, not that I knew him personally but he had more urgent matters that needs his undivided attention; like the reappearance of The Reaper, that he was so obsessed with.

Damian’s POV I tore my gaze from her thighs, looking up to find her eyes blazing with fury. "Oh, it's Mr Stranger, the ditcher," she said. “It's Damian. But you can call me Mr. Free Fuck. I was close to getting my way the other day, wasn't I?” I asked, my lips twitching in amusement. She huffed, whirling around on her heels so that it made a squeaky sound. She was about to walk off.

Damien? Before I could embarrass myself further, he saved me. “Damon. My name is Damon Rice.” His voice was smooth but laced with nerves, like he wasn’t used to introducing himself outside of boardrooms. “And I know you are Piper. Piper Harrison.” I blinked. My jaw may or may not have dropped a little. “Wowww,” I said slowly, dragging out the syllable like some giddy teenager. “How did you know me that much to know my full name?”

He lingered there for a moment, savoring the contact, before his teeth gently closed around my skin once again. Damien leaned back slightly, eyes roaming over me as if admiring what he’d done. His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smirk before they finally lifted to meet mine. The way I looked at him seemed to stir something dark and wild inside him. He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. “Fuck… You make me crazy, Piper.” He said my name like it was both a prayer and a punishment, a blessing he never should have been allowed to touch, and a burden he’d carry without hesitation if it meant having me.

Harris lowers himself into the chair opposite Damien, his movements deliberate but tense. “What do you want?” Harris’s voice is low, almost a growl. Damien leans back slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in something that could be a smile—or a smirk. “I should be asking you that,” Damien replies coolly. His tone is steady, unnervingly calm. “I’m not the one behind bars.” Harris flinches but quickly recovers, narrowing his eyes. “Is this your idea of a joke?” Damien tilts his head, examining Harris with an almost clinical detachment. His black hair is neatly combed, his suit immaculate—a sharp contrast to Harris’s wrinkled prison uniform and unshaven face.

His eyes fell on the family, who shook with fear and fell to their knees as they saw him enter. "Mr. Max Dawson. What a long time, no see?" Damian asked as he smirked, looking at Mr. Max, who was shivering, and at Mr. Max's two daughters, who hugged their mother in fear, thinking he was a criminal. Caden winced in pain after Damian kicked him and entered the room. Damian's aura was intimidating and spoke volumes of the ruthlessness that had grown over the years. "What do you want, Damian? I promise to pay off the money. Just give me time," Mr. Max begged, falling to his knees. "Please, spare my family. I promise to pay you off."

“I’ll leave you to it.” As Chris walked out, Damien’s gaze lingered at the door for a long moment.. Then he reached for his phone. He tapped the screen and started a FaceTime call to Elena. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. … Damien stood at a construction site, briefly greeting the supervisor before walking down a row of half-finished walls. His sharp eyes scanned everything, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. After an hour of going through updates and checks, he stepped aside and pulled out his phone again.

Across from me, Damien lounged in his chair with his tie loose and his smirk even looser. “I swear, Sienna,” he said, voice teasing, his eyes traveling my whole body. “Every time I see you, you look even more seductive and more dangerous than you already are. Tell me, what’s your secret? Stealing the perverted souls of men?” Alexander shot him a glare that could’ve frozen hell. “Damien.” “What? It’s a compliment,” Damien said, lifting his glass in mock salute. I laughed softly. “No souls stolen yet, but I’ll keep you in mind when I start collecting, yours seems to reek of that perversion after all.”