Prince Of Stone - A Captive Prince Fanfiction

XVII. Prince of Poison

The doors to the apartment were, uncharacteristically, unguarded. The doors opened easily beneath Damen's hands. He supposed The Regent would be in need of another bodyguard after what Damen had done to Govart, leaving him for dead in the back of that van.

He wondered, detachedly, if he would be jailed for killing a man. Then he remembered Govart raising a hand to Laurent, and realized he didn't care. For Laurent, he would suffer anything.

The elevators, too, were abandoned. Damen rushed towards them, hating every second he had to spend enclosed as the elevator climbed floors. His restless energy, the spiking adrenaline that now coursed through him, did not want to be contained.

But there was a strange buoyancy within him, too, at the knowledge that The Regent had no papers anymore, nothing to hold against Laurent in the court case for his inheritance. Laurent could be free of him, finally.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a scene of destruction.

Damen's eyes trailed over the overturned chair, the shattered flower vase, the glass strewn across the floor. And the form of The Regent, spread-eagled on the floor, convulsing as blood trickled from the side of his mouth.

And in the centre of it all, Laurent.

Damen took a cautious step forward. Laurent was wiping his hands on a fine linen, nonchalantly. "Hello, lover." He smirked at Damen's expression, then continued. Blood pressure meds," Laurent explained, seeing Damen's shock. "Took a few too many, the poor bastard."

Laurent's expression had betrayed a momentary surprise upon seeing him, and something shattered inside Damen's chest at the realization that Laurent hadn't expected anyone to come after him.

Damen rushed over to The Regent, the sudden impulse to bring his foot down over his nose, shatter his ribs, make him bleed, overwhelming him.

"Damen," Laurent said, as if sensing Damen's dark thoughts. . "Leave him. It's better he suffer. Besides, it has to look like an accident. An overdose. I slipped them into his whiskey, and he's been drinking all afternoon, quite pleased with himself for having finally won against me."

Damen raised his eyes, slowly, to Laurent's. He gave him a quick cursory glance, checking for injuries. Apart from the collar of his shirt slightly askew, a solitary button smudged with blood, he seemed unruffled. Even his hair was done, swept back with all its usual careless elegance.

"Laurent," Damen breathed. "How...?"

Laurent smirked. "What, did you think me utterly defenseless? I knew what I was doing. I had my mind made up the minute you hung up that call from my uncle last night. I knew I could never win the court case against him, so I thought I'd go to him. Play along for however long I could buy myself."

"And after that?"

Laurent shrugged. "Honestly? I wasn't sure I'd live long enough to find out. My uncle tends to discard his toys once he's finished with them."

Damen remembered, then. "Nicaise," he said. "I found him. He's with Nikandros. He's safe."

Laurent's face relaxed for the first time since the previous night. "Thank you, Damianos."

"Last night, you called me Damen." It was getting difficult to talk over The Regent's choking and sputtering; it seemed he was having an aneurysm.

"Last night was ... a pretense. I pretended you were mine, because you wanted me to. Because I didn't think I'd see you again, and I wanted--"

"No." Damen was shaking his head. "That was not a pretense, Laurent. I am yours. I--"

His hands closed over the usb stick in his pants pocket. "I have evidence that we can bring against The Regent in court, make sure the inheritance goes to you."

"It's late for that," Laurent said, a hollow laugh dying in his throat. "He is very nearly dead. It was made to look like an accident. The inheritance. will go to me anyway."

"And you'll be free of him."

Laurent's gaze snapped to his, cold and distant. "You know." It wasn't a question.
Damen didn't confirm it. He didn't have to. On the floor between them, The Regent fell silent.

"We don't have to talk about this now. Let's go home."

Lauret said nothing, just stared down as the jerking body of The Regent became still.

"Laurent. Please say something."

Laurent turned on him, then. "What is it you want me to say, Damen? Do you want me to tell you about how I still can't sleep at night, because I fear that every footfall outside my door belongs to him? Do you want me to tell you about how Auguste knew what our uncle was like, and spent his whole life protecting me from it? And when he left--because of you, and what you did to him during that wrestling match--I was left completely defenseless? I was so fucking naive. I thought, he's my uncle. He would never harm me. But then he did. And because of my failure, he hurt Nicaise too."

"I know, love. I regret what happened with Auguste more than anything. Fuck, if I could do things differently--but there's no room for that. Not now. We have to leave before his body is discovered. Did you leave fingerprints anywhere?"

Laurent rolled his eyes. "I'm his nephew. I've been to his apartment for dinner more times than I can count. My fingerprints are everywhere. It's not suspicious."

"Alright," Damen said. "Will you come home with me?"

"Home." Laurent said. "It's so far away."

Damen wasn't sure if he was talking about his apartment, but he said, "Nicaise is at the dorm with Nik. Let's go there. Together."

Laurent nodded. His cheeks were flushed, and he was breathing rapidly. He crossed the floor, carefully navigating the broken glass, and--to Damen's shock--took his hand.