Injustice: Gods Among Us Damian Wayne นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Alex went after Damien and Jasmine went inside the ward to confront Tobias. "Damien , Damien . Stop, common man, stop." Alex kept on calling out to Damien , but he didn't respond. He just kept on going. He didn't even take his car along with him, he just kept on walking. Alex was running now, trying to meet up with his speed, but he was way too fast.

A strange kind of wave of relief ran in his body after knowing that she is not a lesbian. All of them finished their breakfast silently... ***** They were in the basement, Damian was standing in front of a man who was hanging in front him covered in his own blood, Rose and jack standing behind him with 2 other men... Damian was looking dangerously calm, his hands covered in blood and veins of his muscular arms were popping out due to his rolled up sleeves, he again sliced one of his finger making him scream in agony. "I won't repeat myself, Where is my drugs?..."

Mark was hoping to get a reaction out of Damien, and he did. I am the only one in this area. I have been known to eat a cow or two when the elk and moose are scarce. I am the one this Bud Grierson shot. Elena hugged Damien as she listened to him talk to Mark. She shivered as she remembered that day, seeing the gaping hole in his side and the blood dripping from his nose. A tear glistened in her eye as she thought about that fateful day.

"I'm just here to do my job. I won't tell him if it's that much of a big deal." Damien exhaled. He knew he could trust them. He decided to call his friends from Systema. It was time to do something about those junior mafiosos. "Meet me at the parking lot behind the market," he told them on the phone, then headed there. After a few minutes have passed, his friends Dimitri, Viktor, and Sacha showed up. They were the three guys in Systema he trusted the most. "What's the problem? I was in the middle of getting laid," Viktor barked.

The lies. Damian gritted his teeth and brought the glass to his lips, the whiskey burning as it went down. He couldn’t let it go, not yet. Lucas was dead, but there was still unfinished business. With a deep breath, Damian dialed a number. It rang twice before a gruff voice answered. “This is Carter.” “It’s me,” Damian said, his voice steady but laced with tension. “Mr. Wolfe,” Carter replied, his tone immediately more formal. “What can I do for you?”

My mind drifted back to what Cassandra had said about Erica having a son for Damian. So after Damian sent my mother to jail, he is still having the perfect life with his lover. I want my pound of flesh and I don't care if it comes with broken bones. Damian Anderson will pay for all the privileges he denied my mother after his father's death. The rattling of handcuffs, dildo, and the whip dropped on the bed reminded me of my present predicament. I looked at the monster before me, his eyes were dark red, filled with deadly desires, his face partly burnt, his dick hard and huge. I took a syringe filled with morphine and injected it into my system.

Hand the drive to him, tell him everything, and watch Eze burn. Or plug it in myself. End the merger. End Damian’s empire. End us. The door opens. Damian steps in, blood on his sleeve again, but not his. Eyes bright with victory. He sees me on the cot. Smiles, slow, dangerous. “We got them,” he says. “HiAce driver. Two shooters. They’re in the basement now. Talking.” He crosses the room. Kneels beside the cot. Kisses me, deep, claiming.

“Every trail, every bribe, every whisper they have left behind. Helena. Clarissa. Cynthia. I do not care how far you have to go. If the trail leads to Moscow or to hell itself, you will follow it. Do you understand me?” There was a pause on the line. Marcus was a man who never questioned, who understood the weight behind every command. “Understood. And when I find it?” “Then we burn them with it.” The call ended. Damian let the phone fall onto the desk, his chest rising and falling in slow, deliberate breaths. He poured another drink, the amber liquid catching the first hint of dawn’s light, but he did not lift it to his lips. He no longer needed the crutch of alcohol. What surged through hi

“Yes. Hand it over, or tell me where I can find it.” Damien gave me the same disgusted look I gave him. “Damn, she must be something in bed…” My eyes flicked back to his, and I silently threatened him. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” Damien said. “For that bitch?” Quicker than Damien could react, I pulled the pistol out of my belt and shot him in the left shoulder. “Jesus!” Damien staggered back and clutched himself. All my men drew their weapons. So did Micah’s.

Damien took the stand. He told his story. He talked about the networks he dismantled, the lives he saved. The choices he made. The prosecutor cross-examined him. He was aggressive and relentless. "Mr Grayson. Did you kill a man named Marcus Webb?" Damien was quiet for a moment. "Yes." "And was Marcus Webb unarmed when you killed him?" "He was holding a weapon. He was threatening to kill innocent people." The prosecutor leaned closer. "And you killed him without hesitation."