Michael Dsmp Novels & Stories

I muttered, clasping my fingers as I awaited Michael's response. Michael is a renowned detective who works for the state's secret service and other government agencies, so accessing databases, which seems impossible, isn't a challenge for him since he's authorized to obtain information from anywhere in the state, even government facilities. Apart from working for government officials, he also serves reputable businessmen like us, who pay a significant portion of our earnings in taxes. I must say that's one of the perks of being a prominent billionaire. I poured more wine into my glass and crossed my legs as I waited for Michael's feedback.

His influence over the doctors had ensured that the results would align with his deceitful narrative. As Michael continued his self-congratulatory stroll, he entered one of the empty ballet studios within the entertainment complex. The expansive room echoed with his footsteps as he walked towards the center, where a lone figure awaited. And that figure was none other but Sam Smith, the ballet coach that was still sweating after training people for 8 hours. “Oh, hey Michael, you seem really happy now,” he said, before raising his hand to catch the water bottle that Michael just threw. “Is something good just happening to you now?”

His face was still pale, and I could see the exhaustion dragging at his features. But his eyes were sharp. Focused. Determined. I swallowed hard. “Who is he?” Michael hesitated. Then he said, “His name is Daniel Carter. He used to work for Damien.” That made my stomach drop. “Used to?” I repeated. Michael nodded. “He was Damien’s accountant—handled all the money, all the offshore accounts, all the dirty transactions. But then something changed.” I frowned. “What?” Michael leaned back against the bar, his fingers running through his hair. “Carter found something. Something Damien didn’t want him to know.”

--- Michael’s Web Tightens In a dimly lit office miles away, Michael sat across from Damon, the tension between them palpable. “You’ve been sloppy, Michael,” Damon said, his voice cold. “I don’t like cleaning up after amateurs.” Michael clenched his fists. “This is personal. Andrew ruined my life. I won’t let him win.” Damon smirked, lighting a cigar. “Personal feelings make you weak. Focus on the objective, or I’ll finish this without you.” Michael’s eyes burned with anger, but he nodded. He needed Damon’s resources, even if it meant playing second fiddle.

I finally asked, breaking the heavy silence. Damon’s jaw tightened. “He’s... complicated.” “That’s not an answer,” I pressed, crossing my arms. Damon hesitated, glancing toward the bathroom door before lowering his voice. “Michael is one of Duncan’s most trusted generals. Loyal, ruthless, and dangerously cunning. But he’s also Melissa’s father, which makes things… messy.” I blinked, connecting the dots. “Melissa, Duncan's ex-girlfriend?" Damon nodded grimly. “She’s probably the one who told him about your marriage. If Michael sees you as a threat to Duncan’s position or to his daughter’s ambitions, he won’t hold back.”

“Whatever it is, I think it is time we find out. I don’t want to be a sitting duck for Vex.” Duncan mind linked Mike to meet them outside the swamp off Sampson’s road in thirty minutes. Mike was the strongest warrior they had. Built like a tank, Mike showed no mercy against their enemies. He was also adept at torture. His viciousness a contradiction difficult to get your mind around while watching his gentle and loving interactions with his two daughters. It was reminiscent of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Whenever they needed information from someone, his talent was unmatched. Duncan’s POV

Then he offered his hand. “I’m Damian.” I hesitated only a moment before shaking it. His grip was steady and warm. Somehow grounding. “Michael.” He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Michael.” “You too.” “You heading to England?” he asked, folding his hands in his lap. I nodded. “Yeah. Business. Family stuff" I lied. He tilted his head. “Same.” Something in the way he said it made me look at him twice. “That so?” “Mmhmm,” he said, with a hint of mischief. “Maybe we’ve got more in common than you think.”