A chill settled over the private booth as Damonโs eyes locked onto the anonymous figure. The casual smirk on his face vanished, replaced by something sharp, something dangerous. His earlier amusement evaporated like mist under fire.
It was him.
He would recognize him anymore. That calm demeanour, that casual look on his face, that innocent smile he wore. One look at him, and a person would feel as if they could trust him.
But Damon knew better. That face, unremarkable, almost forgettable, hid something monstrous underneath. In his past life, that same smile had preceded the guy stabbing him in his back. Literally.
The guy had stood with him through many things, through lows and highs, through humiliation and pain, but in the end, when it mattered the most, when Damon had been so close to achieving what he wanted, he had stabbed him in the back.
Aiden!
Damonโs blood boiled as killing intent flowed freely from his body, rampaging across the entire auction house auditorium. His hands trembled, not with fear, but with fury too great to contain. The calm, calculating predator was gone, replaced by a storm barely leashed by reason.
Aiden.
The man who had once called Damon "brother."
The man who had watched him bleed out with a smile.
The man who had taken everything from him.
Damon could still remember the exact spot where the blade had gone in. The bitter metallic scent of blood, the utter disbelief that had frozen his limbs, the look of pity on Aidenโs face, not regret, not guilt. Pity. As if Damon were a relic of the past, something to be discarded because it was inconvenient.
Damon leaned forward slowly, his eyes never leaving that unremarkable face. He had thought that he had put petty things like revenge behind him and had wanted to live this new life without the shadows of his old one, but the moment he saw the bastard, all reasoning was gone.
Fuck being zen! He wanted his damn revenge!
He wanted that bastard to burn. He wanted to cripple him just like he had crippled him. He wanted him to feel the same pain and betrayal he had felt. He wanted him to beg for death and then deny it to him.
The space around Damon was filled with a murderous aura, with the weight of his emotions. Even the protective wards trembled, reacting to the sheer surge of bloodlust rolling off his body like crashing waves. Across the hall, several top-tier players instinctively turned to look at Damon.
But Damon didnโt care.
All he could see was him.
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