Damian's Seduction (The Steamy Billionaire Series: Book 1)

Chapter 22: King's Surrender

"Mother."

"My son. I missed you so much." Saira pulled her chair closer to the small table facing the control booth at Lester Harbor Women's Correctional Center. She glanced at the surveillance cameras and opened the lid of a chessboard. "Care for a game of chess?"

Damian nodded and sat across from his mother under the watchful eye of a security officer who observed their every move.

"You don't say much, do you? But then again, you were always a quiet child." She smiled, setting up the pieces, pawn by pawn, then the more important ones. Her once blonde hair was now snow white, cascading down her shoulders, highlighting her piercing gray eyes.

Damian remembered when she wore designer clothing instead of a prison uniform. A time when she would leave him at home with a babysitter or housekeeper. He envied the kids whose parents took them to the park. Saira was either in the boardroom or entertaining men.

He recalled cocaine powder scattered on the coffee table, ecstasy pills between sofa cushions, and a loaded gun in the cupboard near his room. "Don't touch that! You useless piece of shit!" Saira had screamed at her boy when he found the weapon, thinking it was a toy, nearly pulling the trigger.

He felt he didn't matter then. He was just a nuisance in her household, a stone in her shoe.

And now, he was no longer a child.

He was a man.

"You can start the game," his mother gestured at the white pieces.

They began playing chess. Saira advanced her pawns aggressively, capturing Damian's pieces with ruthless efficiency.

"Check," she said, her voice calm.

Damian studied the board, then moved his knight to block her queen. They continued playing, the pieces dancing around the chessboard.

"Always think two steps ahead of your opponent. Map out your strategy. The tactics support your goal and objectives," Saira advised, taking another of Damian's pieces with her pawn.

"Thank you, Mother." Damian managed a small smile.

When he thought he was winning, taking piece after piece, Saira blindsided him with her bishop. His king was now defenseless.

"Checkmate."

Damian blew his nose with a tissue when Saira shoved all the pieces back inside the portable chessboard.

"Do you have a cold?" she asked, her tone a mix of false concern and calculated detachment.

"It's nothing. It'll pass. We need to talk about Hope and the deal with the Rocheforts," he said, cutting to the chase.

A sly smile curled at Saira's lips. "Ah, the Rocheforts," she mused, leaning back. "I assume Grant's been his usual 'generous' self?"

Damian's jaw tightened. "He's offered protection for Hope. In exchange, I—"

"You marry Gemma," Saira finished for him, her tone almost gleeful. "She will play a significant role in our future when I'm free. I plan to bring her to the executive team at Scott-Quinn Enterprises. Together, we three will pave the way forward."

"I'm not interested," Damian shot back.

"You do want your slice of the cake, don't you?" Saira's temper flared, her voice rising.

"This isn't a game. Hope's safety is at stake," he replied, frustration seeping into his voice.

Saira's eyes narrowed. "Ah, that little worm who should have been an abortion. The child of a bastard and a whore, a fetus who grew into a parasite."