62
816 Words
CHAPTER 62 — WHEN THE GAME TURNS VIOLENT
The first scream came from the east wing.
Sharp. Female. Cut off too fast.
Sienna froze.
Damien moved instantly.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered, already pulling her toward the door.
The ballroom exploded into chaos. Isabelle Westwood gasped, backing away from the documents scattered across the table. Eleanor Westwood clutched her chest. Charles Westwood didn’t move—only watched, eyes calculating.
And Dante Westwood?
He smiled.
“Ah,” he said softly. “There it is.”
Sienna’s blood ran cold. “What did you do?”
Dante turned to her, calm as ever. “I warned you. Games evolve.”
Another scream echoed—this time closer.
Damien shoved the ballroom doors open.
The hallway was chaos.
A maid lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath her shoulder, eyes wide with shock. Two masked men stood over her, weapons drawn. Not amateurs. Clean movements. Military precision.
Damien didn’t hesitate.
He charged.
The first man barely had time to react before Damien slammed him into the wall, wrenching the weapon free and driving his elbow into the man’s throat. The second turned—too slow.
Gunshot.
Sienna screamed.
The bullet grazed Damien’s arm, tearing fabric and skin. He didn’t slow. He put the man down with brutal efficiency, breath heavy, eyes dark with something lethal.
Silence followed.
Then sirens—distant. Planned.
Sienna ran to Damien, hands shaking as she pressed against his bleeding arm. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” he said roughly. “Are you?”
She nodded, breath uneven. “Dante—”
“I know.”
Footsteps echoed behind them.
Dante emerged from the shadows, hands raised mockingly. “Relax. If I wanted you dead, Sienna, we wouldn’t be talking.”
Her hands curled into fists. “You used innocent people.”
“Innocence is a luxury,” Dante replied coolly. “One you lost the moment you exposed the family.”
Damien stepped forward, weapon still in hand. “Leave. Now.”
Dante’s eyes flicked to the blood on Damien’s sleeve. “You’ll bleed for her,” he said. “Interesting.”
He turned to Sienna. “This was a warning. The next escalation won’t be this… restrained.”
“Get out,” she said, voice trembling with fury. “Before I stop caring who you are.”
Dante studied her for a long moment.
Then he smiled—slow, impressed.
“Good,” he murmured. “You’re learning.”
He disappeared before security flooded the hall.
⸻
The aftermath was ugly.
Police. Statements. Sanitized lies.
The maid survived—barely. And that was enough to shake Sienna to her core.
Later, in their bedroom, Damien sat on the edge of the bed while Sienna cleaned his wound with shaking hands.
“You could have died,” she whispered.
He caught her wrist gently. “I didn’t.”
“But you could have,” she repeated, eyes shining. “Because of me.”
“No,” Damien said firmly. “Because of them.”
She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, breath hitching. “I’m scared.”
He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation. “Good. Fear keeps you alive.”
She pulled back, searching his face. “What if this doesn’t stop?”
Damien’s expression hardened—not with doubt, but with resolve.
“Then we stop playing defense,” he said. “We take control.”
Her pulse quickened. “How?”
“We dismantle Dante’s support,” Damien replied. “Money. Allies. Leverage.”
“And my family?” she asked quietly.
Damien didn’t soften the truth. “They’ll choose sides. Or be crushed by the fallout.”
Sienna nodded slowly.
Something inside her shifted.
No more reaction.
No more waiting.
“I want in,” she said. “On everything.”
Damien studied her—really looked at her—then nodded once.
“Then you stop being protected,” he said. “And start being dangerous.”
She met his gaze. “I already am.”
⸻
Elsewhere, Dante watched the footage replay.
The chaos.
The blood.
The way Damien moved without hesitation.
The way Sienna didn’t crumble.
Cassandra stood beside him, tense. Cassandra
“You pushed too far,” she said.
Dante smiled faintly. “No. I pushed exactly enough.”
He paused the screen on Sienna’s face—eyes blazing, fearless.
“She won’t break,” he said softly. “She’ll evolve.”
“And if she turns on you?” Cassandra asked.
Dante’s smile sharpened.
“Then she’ll finally be worth fearing.”
⸻
That night, Sienna didn’t sleep.
Neither did Damien.
They lay awake, bodies close, minds racing—not with desire, but with war.
And somewhere in the dark, the Westwood empire began to c***k—not from outside attack…
…but from the woman standing at its center.
- Writer
