Chapter 43: Stay Sharp

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There is no winning: I'm the hero of my story, but the villain in someone else's; I might as well be the villain in both.

Damien

My feet traveled out of the airport in Italy, the cold, winter air stinging my nose as I inhaled. I loved being home. Being in Italy reminded me of my dad. He had loved it here, had spoken about his childhood, and how his friends had gotten in so much trouble, but my grandma always saw him as an innocent angel.

I clutched the strap to my leather travel bag and shoved the other hand in my pocket to keep warm.

"I'm f-f-freezing." Bennett's teeth chattered. He pulled his jacket closer to his body, but it only made him shiver more. He hated being home, so I did whatever I could do to help him get out of his house for a bit.

Dylan's chuckle caught my attention. His thumbs moved and tapped across his phone. Ava. His best friend. My brother has been in love with his best friend for as long as he's known her. I wondered when he was going to tell her.

Declan's slight movements filled my peripherals as he took subtle glances everywhere, observing everyone's movements to analyzing the reason behind them and the type of person they were. Meanwhile, Deacon put his earphones in his ears, closed his eyes, and stayed close to Declan.

Two cars pulled up in front. My men got out and grabbed my bags. "Go in that one," I told my brothers.

"You're not coming with us?" Declan asked.

"I don't want to go to nonna's alone!" Dylan said.

"You won't. You have Deac and Dec." I pointed to the car. All three of them crossed their arms. "No, no!"

"Yes!" They countered.

"We'll have the car follow you," Deacon said.

"They won't listen to you."

"But if we tell nonna—"

"Fine!" I power-walked toward my car. The driver drove off, and I looked forward, clearing my thoughts of everything and channeled the Damien I needed to be. I couldn't be eighteen-year-old Damien. That Damien, that boy, couldn't get the shit that needed to be done, done.

Damien King, however, allowed his darkness to surpass him and be the man he needed to be. He embraced his dangerous side. Damien King didn't take bullshit from anyone. Not a damn single soul.

If anyone wanted to lose their life, go against me. Question my loyalty. Go ahead.

I was done taking bullshit from people. The day I showed people what the price was for defying me was the day they stopped acting against me.

We made it to the club I owned. The strippers were practicing their routine, and my brothers were watching. Dylan kept his eyes on his phone. Not Declan; he had his eyes glued to a girl doing an upside split on the stripper pole. Deacon walked away, toward the bar. I pushed Declan, which made him laugh and look away. But I caught him stealing glances.

"Women." He had a huge grin on his face. Dylan walked away to the lounge, his phone to his ear.

"Let's have a drink."

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout," Bennett said, rubbing his hands together. "How have you been?" I smiled at his Italian. There were certain words he said that sounded kid-like, which was funny because he towered over everything. On the way out of the airplane, a kid pointed at Bennett and called him Big Foot.

"So, tell me, American, why you this time?" Emilio asked.

"I need a break from home."

Relishing in the terrible burn in my throat, the strong taste of medicine numbing the tip of my tongue, allowed the burn to make the Leader of the Serpents a concrete persona.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 10, 2021 ⏰

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