Tangled In Vengeance

Chapter 16: Damien Continued

My lips almost curve with amusement. Formalities for the sake of appearances are a game for the public eye, not ours. We're far from friends, Julian and I, but the courteous veneer is just another play in the theatre of power. 

My footsteps resonate on the floor, a staccato rhythm marching me toward whatever pretense of civility Julian has prepared for this meeting.

The door to Julian's office swings open, and I catch the first glimpse of him, poised behind his desk as if he's the master of all he surveys. A nudge from Thomas breaks my brief fixation, and with that discreet prompt, the old butler takes his leave. 

I step into the room, and the air feels charged, heavy with unspoken omens. I gaze at the butler disappearing through the doorway and can't help the sardonic lilt in my voice.

"I see you're capable of being civilized," I remark, gesturing to Thomas's retreating back. "Not so animalistic after all."

Julian's lips twist into his signature sinister smile with a mixture of amusement and hidden barbs. "Only when the need calls for it," he replies smoothly. With a tilt of his head, he regards me with sharp, assessing eyes. "What brings you here, Damien?"

I stride across the room and sink into the chair opposite him. My hands come to rest before me, fingertips tented, and I waste no more time with pleasantries. "Cut the shit, Julian," I say. "You know damn well why I'm here."

Julian picks up a file and tosses it to me. The file lands with a soft thud on the polished wood between us, and I can't stop my hands from reacting as I spread it open. 

Inside, there's a collection of documents, and a photograph sits on top. A recent one, of Isabella, taken without her awareness.

My fingers tighten involuntarily, and the edges of the photo crinkle ever so slightly in the grip of my sudden tension. It's a visceral reaction, one that I hasten to quell by easing my hold on the image before Julian can register the effect it has on me. 

With deliberate slowness, I adjust the photograph, setting it gently back into the file with my face betraying nothing of the storm that rages inside at the sight of her.

I look up at Julian with irritation creeping into my furrowed brow. "What does this have to do with anything?" I demand evenly, but my hands betray the urgency I feel.

Julian leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers as if he were about to unveil a plot twist in a melodrama.

"Isabella's father," he starts with a slow, measured tone. "He's a man whose vice for gambling left her with nothing but debts and regrets. He often found himself in hot water. A predicament from which only Isabella could get him out of."

I clench my jaw as my patience wears thin. "What does this have to do with Jackson?" I probe sharply.

Julian's eyes glint with a knowledge that suggests he knows more than he should.

"You must wonder why a man like him marries a woman like Isabella. It wasn't just a simple affair of the heart, Damien. Her father's connections, albeit to some rather unsavory characters, might have been... valuable to Jackson."

"Word on the street," Julian continues, and the smirk on his lips grows wider. "Is that your brother tried to off you. But, as fate would have it, someone got to him first."

I curse under my breath, clamping down on the swell of irritation. "Who else knows about this?" My voice is edged with the menace that comes from being cornered.

Julian narrows his eyes like a predator enjoying the moment right before the kill.

"No one," he states coldly. "I made sure to cut out his tongue myself. I can't have rumors going around about the Blackharts. We may not be friends, but our power balances each other's rule. If some were to think there's a rival amongst you, they'd be gunning for your power. Then they'd come for me. I like where I am, and I want to keep it that way with as little bloodshed as possible. Not that I mind killing."

"So you think Isabella knows something?" I ask before narrowing my eyes to read Julian's expression.

He shakes his head, a motion dismissive and confident in its finality. "No, I don't think she knows anything, but someone does. Jackson was supposed to get a lot of money from somewhere, and his marriage to Isabella is no coincidence."

The revelation hits me like a physical blow, and in an instantaneous reaction fueled by a blend of fury and fear, I hop out of the chair. The sound of it skidding across the floor is a distant echo to the thunderous beat of my racing heart.

"Someone will try to kill her?" I shout, my composure shattering audibly like fragile glass on concrete.

Julian's laugh is mirthless and taunting like scythes through the tension.

"Last I heard, you tortured her. Now you're worried for her. Why is that?" He leans forward with his forearms resting on the desk.

Julian hands me a box with tattered documents inside. "I had this gathered from Isabella's Father's office in her old house. This is her father's doing. Find him, and you'll get your answers."

"Don't you already know?" I snap as I grab the box.

Julian's eyes darken. "No. The fucking bastard disappeared. I can trace him to Jackson's wedding. After that, he vanished. Don't worry. if he turns up somewhere, I'll let you know."

"Thank you," I say.

"No problem," Julian says with a wolfish grin. "I'll let you know when I need you to return the favor."

I can't help but chuckle, a dry sound that echoes around the room. "Should have known there would be strings attached," I reply with bitter amusement.

Julian only shrugs as his eyes lock onto mine with a stony intensity. "Nothing is given freely in our world, Damien," he says, a cruel sort of truth hanging in the air between us.

I nod my acknowledgment before standing up to leave. Thomas, ever the perfect butler, escorts me out with a professionalism that belies the tension brewing beneath the surface.

As I head home, I dial Victor on my phone. "Switch your focus," I instruct, the words crisp and businesslike. "Look into Isabella's father."

Without waiting for a response, I hang up with my mind whirring with the new information Julian revealed. It's a tangle of half-truths and hidden motives, and I feel a strange sort of thrill as I unravel the threads. 

As I drive, my thoughts keep circling back to Isabella. The woman I can't seem to get out of my mind. Once home, I head straight to my office, intent on doing a little more digging on Isabella.