Page 73 of Damian
“You’re chasing a ghost,” he said, lifting the weapon. “I built this empire on men who thought they were stronger than me. You’ll fall the same way.”
“Difference is,” I growled, stalking closer, “I don’t fall.”
He fired.
The round tore across my ribs, hot and searing. Pain flared white, but I didn’t stop. I slammed into him, the pistol skittering across the floor as I drove him back into the steel racks. The servers groaned, sparks showering around us.
My forearm pressed across his throat, his smug mask finally cracking. “You want to build empires on broken lives?” I snarled, my face inches from his. “Then you answer to me.”
He clawed at my arm, gasping for air. “Kill me…and another takes my place.”
“Maybe,” I said, tightening my grip. “But not tonight.”
I slammed him to the floor, knee digging into his chest, rifle barrel pressed hard against his jaw.
This was it—the moment to pull the trigger, to end him right here, right now.
But something inside me shifted. Morgan’s voice. Her touch. The truth in her eyes when she whispered,You came back.
Killing him would be too easy. Too fast.
I wanted him caged. Exposed. Powerless.
“Cyclone,” I barked into comms, never taking my eyes off Luthor. “Tell me you’re recording this.”
“Live feed’s rolling,” Cyclone answered, his voice fierce. “Whole world’s about to see what kind of monster he really is.”
Luthor’s eyes widened. For the first time, he looked afraid.
And I knew—I had him.
98
Damian
Luthor’s breath came in ragged bursts under the weight of my knee, his eyes wide now, the mask of control stripped away. I pressed the rifle harder against his jaw, my voice low and final.
“It’s over.”
“Not…for long,” he rasped, spittle flecking his lips. “You cage me, another man takes my place. You cut one head, three more rise.”
I leaned in close, my mouth to his ear. “Then I’ll cut them all.”
Oliver moved in, rifle still trained on the shadows. “Damian—enough. Put him down and let’s move before more of his men flood in.”
With a shove, I yanked Luthor to his feet. He staggered, coughing, but I dragged him forward by the collar of his suit. His pistol lay forgotten on the floor. Oliver snapped a set of flex cuffs around his wrists, jerking them tight behind his back.
Gage’s voice cracked over comms. “Perimeter’s clean—fornow. But we’ve stirred the nest. We need to roll before backup swarms this place.”
“Copy,” I said, hauling Luthor toward the exit. He resisted, a weak, pathetic attempt at digging his heels into the concrete, but the fight had bled out of him the moment the feed went live.
Cyclone’s voice carried a note of triumph. “Transmission’s secure. Command has the files, and the footage of our friend here getting his ass handed to him. Every corrupt cop, every dirty politician tied to his bankroll just got exposed.”
Luthor’s face twisted, fury and fear tangling together. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” he spat, his voice breaking.
“Oh, I do,” I growled, shoving him through the wreckage of the compound. “I’ve just gutted your empire. And I’ll be right there to grind the ashes if anyone tries to rebuild it.”
The team formed a tight diamond around us, rifles sweeping as we moved. The compound lights flickered back on, illuminating the chaos we’d left—bodies on the floor, servers smoking, power gutted.
