Damon Prison World Pancakes Novels & Stories

DAMIEN I had noticed her the moment she was dragged into the throne room. Even in chains, the daughter of a criminal, Rosalia Muller commanded attention—not with the practiced grace of our court ladies, but with something far more intriguing. Her dark red hair caught the light filtering through the stained glass, creating a halo of crimson around her face. There was a wild beauty in her desperation, in the way she held herself despite everything crumbling around her.

I’m literally half her age and I know better. “Sourpuss,” she winks at me. “C’mon, it’s about time you smiled.” When our drinks come, my marshmallows have been melted and whipped to such high peaks it’s impossible to take a sip without painting my face. My mother is checking her phone, and the thought of the Blue Shades man’s scrotum getting hacked off and stored in his loafers has already crossed my mind a few times. All that blood flooding down his crisp, clean pants. Screaming as he grabs between his legs. The eye in my forehead is fluttering under my skin, too dark and too willing to open itself wide. Ready to show me. Always trying to show me these things.

I gestured vaguely to the eggs and bacon like they were evidence in a courtroom. Damon turned to me with that maddening smile—the one that looked harmless but carried too much intent. “Oh, I do have a company to run,” he said smoothly, leaning against the counter as though he belonged here. “But what’s the point of empires and meetings if I can’t spend a little time cooking breakfast for someone worth it?” My cheeks betrayed me instantly, heating before I could even school my expression. My brain screamed at me to roll my eyes, to scoff, to do something, but all I managed was a sharp inhale.

The moment I hit the street at the age of nine, I already know not to trust anyone, that emotions make you vulnerable and there's no such thing as free. Or love. I tied Nicholas Salazar on a bolted stool on the far corner of the room but not far enough for him not to see a magnificent show before death claimed him. One more and the show would start soon. I drag Antonio Lewis on the butcher table, securing his hands and feet with a metal wire, making it extra tight as I gave it a hard tug so the wire would dig to his skin. This was easier than I thought it would be. Well, I’ll just make the most of it. Thankful that the place was airtight and soundproof or things would be messy with those nos

"You really believe that, don't you? That you can make a difference?" Sofia nodded, feeling Luca's silent support beside her. "I have to. Otherwise, what's the point of any of this?" A long moment of silence stretched between them. Finally, Vivian sighed, a rueful smile on her face. "Alright, kids. I'm in. God help me, but I'm in." The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity. Vivian set them up with new identities, untraceable phones, and a safehouse on the outskirts of the city. As she worked, she peppered them with questions about the ledger and Marco's operations.

POV - GABRIELLA SANGRIENTO "Motherfucker." I pinch the bridge of my nose then took a deep breath to calm myself. Amelia was sweating as she was covered in her vomit. After she woke up she started fighting, trying to get out of the chains. I shut her up by slapping her but that made the situation worse, she vomited all over the place and now she smells like shit. "I'll get Oscar," I said. "No, we don't have time." Giovanni replied.

They had already given names to the five of us with subpoena's; the Lola-5, Sub babies and many more that drove me sick as well as insane. The next day, Mofe left back to school and I was alone again with Nurse Evelyn, Ms. Lizzy and the Chef. When Mommy was not around, I ate in my bedroom. When she was around mostly breakfast or dinner, I had to stay on the dinning table because she wanted to talk to me. Daa came back home that night during dinner. We sat in their room for an hour and talked about the subpoena again. "The truth will set you free, Tamunoibim", He always called me in my full name blending the two words together into one one. "especially since you didn't do anything wrong".

A passer-by who witnessed the crime called the police, and Lola was later arrested and thrown behind bars. One day, Julian held me lovingly in his arms as we basked in the warm sunshine in the yard. The gray kitten we shared was curled up in my lap, purring as it napped. "I heard that after recovering from his injury, Hayden couldn't work and has resorted to begging on the streets," Julian informed me casually. I stroked the cat's silky-smooth head and smiled faintly. "Oh, that's nice to hear." Julian kissed the top of my head. "Do you feel vindicated?"

Back in my cheap apartment, I yanked the fridge open. The $5.90 strawberry cake sat on the top shelf. The cheap frosting was melting. I stood in line for twenty minutes after my shift to get it. I stared at it for three seconds. Yesterday, I would never dare to waste it. Today, I threw the whole box into the trash can. Three years. Three whole years. I dug through discount bins for bruised veggies. I begged the butcher for cheap offcuts. All so Killian could eat a little better.

“Fine. But you’re on diaper duty. Because she’s got that face.” “What face,” I said. “The ‘I’m about to ruin 6 AM’ face,” Adrian said. Standing. Shirtless. Sweats. Scar from Cayman. Also silver. Also always. “All my girls got it.” _Thump._ *7:44 AM. [SFX: PANCAKES. THEN CHAOS. THEN SEVEN.]* Kitchen. Not donuts. Tuesday. Pancakes. Susan’s rule. “Tuesday is pancakes. Because Monday was court. And we won court. Again.”