The sound of an expensive wine bottle being opened rang out in the room as father and son poured each other drinks and patted each otherâs backs.
"Ahhh, that little shit was really clever, but we got him.."
Cassian laughed, toasting his father.
The Grand Duke stroked his golden hair with satisfaction.
"Hahaha, who else can he turn to but family... The marriage gambit wasnât really about our little Evangeline, but about ownership."
Cassian took a sip of the wine, savoring the rich taste before speaking again.
"He couldnât reject without seeming outright unreasonable, especially since he was the one making the offer."
"Plus, there was also the issue of Seraâs schemes... but nothing we canât solve with a few calls."
"Yes we can start early."
It was all smiles with schemes. Annalise sat nearby, speechless as she watched them.
"Ahhh... I liked how he figured it out but didnât try to escape. We used his own tricks," the Grand Duke laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the outcome.
Annaliseâs eyebrows twitched. The three of them had ironed out some minor details, and Damon had left to meet Xander Ravenscroft.
"I canât believe the both of you are happy about taking advantage of your seventeen-year-old nephew and grandchild."
Cassian closed his eyes, his voice calm and without regret.
"He started it, and I call this a win-win situation. We both got what we wanted. Besides, if Damon was the only one, it would be easy. However, we still had to think about Luna, so him becoming godchild doesnât really help Luna much."
The Grand Duke nodded in agreement.
"Making the frail Luna a godchild as well would seem suspicious. However, our way was the best."
Annalise sighed, rubbing her temple as if warding off a headache.
"Itâs a good thing Evangeline didnât get this scheming side... and I hope Luna didnât too. Someone has to protect those girls from you three, and from the looks of it, thatâs up to me."
The two of them glanced at her, then burst into laughter, congratulating each other as if they werenât adults plotting against a child.
"Ahhh, I canât with these two..." Annalise muttered.
She turned her gaze toward the window, wondering where Damon was at the moment, and whether he too was celebrating his own small victory against the two of them.
Of course, Damon was already somewhere else. He had arrived at the restaurant a little too early. The VIP room had been reserved for him alone, giving him time to ponder his thoughts, what he would say to Xander, and what he might ask for in exchange or maybe nothing at all.
Still, he soon found himself contemplating the choices that had led him here.
Some people represented the best of humanity, while most represented its foul truth.
The soft ambiance and luxury of the private chamber did not ease his mind. Yet his heart was frighteningly calm. He did not carry the agitation of what he had done. Xander had caught him by surprise once before. Now, he came prepared.
When he was a child, Back To Back had taught him that the rule was simple always look out for number one yourself.
But that couldnât be true, because Damonâs number one had always been his sister.
He would have had an easier life if he had just cut her off and abandoned her all those years ago. He wouldnât have had to stay in Valerion, working for a smuggling ring, when the world was so big and open to him.
The thought had simply never crossed Damonâs mind.
And even if it had, it wouldnât have mattered. Even if holding on to his sister meant he would drown alongside her, he would rather drown with her than live without her.
If nothing else, he had Luna. As long as she remained, he wanted to be Damon for her.
He wanted her to need him... no, he needed her to need him.
That had been, was, and would always be his purpose. What other purpose was greater? None. And that was his weakness, the key to his eventual downfall.
The wide double doors of the chamber slowly opened. Light spilled into the luxurious room, illuminating its high-quality seats, tables, and carefully chosen art decorations.
This was money and power embodied.
Yet the young man who walked in bore the look of someone powerless and defeated. He sat down across from Damon without ceremony.
His brown hair gleamed under the light, his clothes made of the highest quality fabric clothes so costly they could have fed a poor family for more than a century. And this wasnât even among his better attire.
This young man was Xander Ravenscroft, the only living male child of House Ravenscroft, and the one destined to inherit their seat of power.
"Youâre early," those were the first words Xander said, settling into his chair across from Damon, who sat with a crown upon his head, his dark hair flowing like a waterfall.
"Unfortunately... I had nothing better to do with my time, so here I am."
Xander smiled lightly, though his blue eyes betrayed a bleakness. They seemed darker than before not cold, but hollow.
These were the eyes of a changed man.
Damon sighed. This was not how Xander Ravenscroft should be. These were not the eyes of the man who had once challenged Damonâs ways and ideals.
That man was gone now. He had been killed by Damon or perhaps it was more accurate to say by Amon. No, he had been killed by his brotherâs death. The poison of grief had spread, taking root in his heart.
The atmosphere grew solemn, an air Damon found unsettling. It made him uneasy.
"What was your brother like, Xander? Was he a good man?"
Damon didnât truly need to ask this question, but he wanted to know more about the man he had killed. While he had shared a drink with Godric before ending his life, he had never really known him.
"He was the best of men. He was steadfast, he helped the weak and fought against injustice. He was kind to his subjects and wise beyond his years. An icon I could only admire."
Xander bit his lips.
"He taught me honor, how to live by it. He was the most honorable man I know."
Damon listened carefully. Of course, this was Xanderâs impression of his brother. Why was he not surprised? To Damon, however, he was someone else entirely.
To him, Godric was the author of his misery, the man whose single vain action had altered the course of his life forever.
The man he had met was a coward who could not face the truth. He had hidden in his shadows, drowning in drink, feeling regret but refusing to move forward.
âHe couldnât live, but he didnât want to die either.â
That was Damonâs impression of Godric. In the end, Godric was just like him someone who had failed at life.
Wishing for noble ideals, while carrying shame in the shadows.
Damon didnât look Xander in the eye.
"Let me ask you something, Xander. How you answer will drastically affect what I say and what I do."
Xander didnât understand what Damon was getting at, but he didnât hesitate.
"Ask."
Damon nodded, finally meeting his gaze directly.
"Do you want truth and justice... or do you want vengeance?"
Xanderâs eyes hardened. He didnât hesitate.
"I want vengeance."