The Damelios Novels & Stories

They embraced briefly before Remon stepped into the carriage that would take him to the docks. "By the way, the woman at Dario's side was marked. But was it Dario who marked her? So they're really man and wife already?" Damian was quite surprised to be asked such a question. His expression changed immediately, which made Remon feel bad for asking such a sensitive question. "Ah," Remon's words were cut short. "She was marked by Dario, that's why Dario really wants to make it official like me and Rachel who had a temple wedding," Damian said, forced to lie. He couldn't possibly say that Nadlyn had been marked by him, could he?

I kept my hands folded in my lap as we drove, wondering what I had gotten myself into by agreeing to this. Inside the car, it was quiet for a long time. I finally broke the silence. “Tell me about your family.” Damien’s expression changed right away. “There’s not much to tell.” “I doubt that,” I said. After a pause, he started talking. “My father remarried after my mother died. Victoria is my stepmother. She likes control.” I smiled a little. “That’s your warning?” “No.” He glanced at me briefly. “This is. Answer only what you’re asked. Don’t volunteer information.”

Elena saw the looks they traded. "What?" Mark looked right at Damien. "Did you tell her I said the same thing?" Damien shook his head. Mark didn't quite believe him, but Elena's reaction to his smirk left him with enough doubt to think maybe he hadn't. Mark thought some more about it and realized he had accepted the 'communication' thing enough to just automatically assume that little remark had been passed along with the other things that had been said in the kitchen. He considered what had transpired and decided he was comfortable with the idea that it would be possible to hear Dagomarus speak to him with a voice, not just a look or nod.

"Damien Moretti and Lady Natalia St Dumas." The applause that followed drowned my confusion as the spotlight flashed on Damien and his so called business partner.

“Don’t insult me.” A heavy pause. Then—Damion’s voice dropped lower, quieter. “You think I don’t know?” Carmela’s father stiffened. Damion’s gray eyes darkened, his fingers curling into fists. “You think I don’t remember what you did?” There was something terrifying in his tone. Something lethal. Carmela’s father swallowed, his face paling slightly. “Damion—” “You worked for my father,” Damion continued, his voice like ice. “You helped him cover up his tracks. You helped him destroy lives.”

The only one who could actually talk to and command the brothers without a care in the world. Dalia Melwart, the sole heir of Melwart Paradise, an international business organisation that stretched across over 70% of the world. An independent and self-made woman with influence in places one would never expect. Having lost her parents from young, Dalia was the one who took care of herself, her brother, and the family business. Right from a young age, she had built her connection and influence in stones so it was a wise move for Damien to seek her help in the war.

Damelo tried to deny the fact that he had saved him. “I am a professional businessman since many years and I know the intentions of people just by looking at their face. I have a good memory and off course I never forget the voice that I have heard once. And on top of that your voice is one of a kind,” he said. Mr. Damelo looked around for some time and then he turned to him. “I am only going to accept the fact if you’re going to get up from your place. You don’t deserve to be on the ground Mr. Black,” he said.

Esmeralda screamed at Damian, but he paid her no attention. Damian strode back to the main house to fetch his fated mate, only to encounter Calisto, who was vividly alert with Elara unconscious in his arms. Seeing Elara unconscious, a rush of icy water seemed to cascade down Damian's entire body, spreading cold and fear throughout his being. "Elara!" Damian hurriedly approached his fated mate, his hands trembling as he cupped Elara's cheeks. Calisto noticed Damian's genuine concern for his daughter, seeing the fear in his eyes. In Damian's mind, the possibility of losing Elara rendered him vulnerable, a far cry from the resilient fighter Calisto had witnessed earlier.

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 did not know whether or not to like it, but I knew that since she was injured I should not be overreacting. Delilah turned to me, her eyes scanning me like she was trying to memorize every detail. Then she gave a soft nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you… you must be Damon’s…” “My mate,” Damon said firmly, stepping beside me, his hand grazing the small of my back as he looked directly at Delilah. “The mother of my child and my woman, my pride and my glory.”