Claimed Territory
1172 Words
Lena
The police never came.
That should have disturbed me more than it did.
Instead, I stood barefoot in my destroyed living room at nearly four in the morning watching armed men quietly remove shattered glass while Damien Vale leaned against my kitchen counter bleeding through another expensive shirt.
Apparently this was just his Tuesday.
Scarface — whose actual name I’d finally learned was Roman — spoke quietly into an earpiece near the doorway.
“…yeah, perimeter’s locked down.”
Perimeter.
Around my tiny rental house.
Fantastic.
I crossed my arms tightly. “Can someone please explain why my life suddenly resembles a mafia documentary?”
Roman glanced toward Damien first before answering.
Interesting.
Everyone checked Damien before speaking.
Always.
“Wrong place at the wrong time,” Roman said carefully.
“Bullshit.”
A faint cough disguised suspiciously like a laugh came from another man near the window.
Roman ignored him.
I turned toward Damien. “You said they wouldn’t touch me.”
His expression hardened instantly. “They didn’t.”
“They shot at my house!”
“And they missed.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Oh, well, that’s comforting.”
Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes then.
Not anger at me.
At himself.
“You think this is funny?” I demanded.
“No.”
The single word landed heavy.
Real.
Exhaustion suddenly crashed over me all at once. Adrenaline drained out of my body so fast my knees nearly buckled.
Damien moved immediately.
One second across the room.
The next directly in front of me.
Warm hands closed around my arms before I could stumble.
“You’re pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“You almost fell.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
God, he noticed everything.
I pulled away gently before his touch melted my remaining brain cells.
“I just need coffee.”
“You need sleep.”
“And you need a hospital, but apparently we’re both ignoring good ideas tonight.”
A low murmur of amusement moved through the room from his men.
Damien’s gaze never left mine.
Then Roman cleared his throat carefully.
“We should move you both.”
The room instantly cooled.
Move us both.
My stomach tightened.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Damien didn’t even look at Roman when he answered.
“She’s right.”
Roman frowned. “Boss.”
“No.”
The single syllable carried enough authority to silence the room instantly.
Terrifying.
Roman’s jaw tightened slightly. “They know where she lives now.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then she isn’t safe here.”
My pulse kicked harder.
Safe.
The word echoed strangely in my chest.
Because despite everything happening—
despite armed men and bullets and blood—
I somehow felt safest standing beside Damien.
Which was deeply concerning for my psychological wellbeing.
“She comes with us,” Roman continued.
“No,” I cut in immediately.
Every eye turned toward me.
I lifted my chin stubbornly. “I’m not being dragged into whatever criminal billionaire nonsense this is.”
One of the men muttered, “Criminal billionaire nonsense,” under his breath like he was trying not to laugh.
Damien looked dangerously close to smiling too.
Traitors.
“I have work tomorrow,” I continued.
Roman blinked at me slowly. “Your house was shot at.”
“Yes, and capitalism still expects me to clock in at eight.”
Another muffled laugh echoed somewhere behind us.
Damien finally spoke.
“She’s not going to work.”
I turned instantly. “Excuse me?”
“You’re staying with me.”
Absolutely not.
The terrifying thing?
Part of me wanted to say yes immediately.
I crushed that thought to death.
“You don’t own me.”
His eyes darkened instantly.
The room changed.
Subtle.
But every man nearby went quieter.
Still.
Like predators sensing another predator.
Damien stepped toward me slowly.
“Careful, Lena.”
“No.” My pulse hammered harder, but I held his gaze anyway. “You don’t get to order me around because you’re rich and scary.”
His jaw flexed once.
Then unexpectedly—
“You think I care about the money?”
The question caught me off guard.
“What?”
His voice lowered.
Deadly calm.
“If I wanted control, money is the easiest way to get it.” His eyes locked onto mine. “But you fight me every single time.”
Heat curled low in my stomach.
Because he sounded frustrated by how much he liked it.
Roman suddenly spoke again.
“We don’t have time for this.”
Damien didn’t look away from me.
“I know.”
Then he reached into his coat pocket and held out a small black object.
A phone.
My phone.
I blinked. “Why do you have that?”
“You dropped it outside.”
I took it carefully from his hand.
Our fingers brushed.
Tiny contact.
Massive mistake.
The look on Damien’s face darkened instantly.
Like he felt it too.
Every molecule of oxygen vanished from the room.
“You should come with us,” he said quietly this time.
No command now.
No force.
Something worse.
Honesty.
Fear touched me unexpectedly at the edges.
Not fear of him.
Fear of what happened if I said yes.
Because deep down…
I already knew I wouldn’t want to leave once I stepped fully into his world.
And Damien knew it too.
Roman’s phone buzzed suddenly.
He answered immediately, turning away.
A few seconds later, his posture stiffened.
“Boss.”
Damien finally looked away from me.
“What.”
Roman hesitated.
Then carefully—
“They found the leak.”
Silence.
Every man in the room went still.
Not tense.
Deadly.
Like the air before lightning strikes.
Damien’s expression became unreadable.
Cold enough to freeze blood.
“Who.”
Roman glanced briefly toward me.
A mistake.
Because Damien noticed.
And whatever answer sat in Roman’s eyes—
he didn’t want me hearing it.
My stomach dropped.
“Damien.”
He ignored me completely.
“Out,” he said quietly to his men.
Everyone moved immediately.
No hesitation.
No questions.
Within seconds the room emptied until only Damien and I remained standing among broken glass and rain-soaked shadows.
I looked at him carefully.
“You’re going to kill someone.”
His silence answered everything.
Cold slid down my spine.
“Damien.”
He dragged a hand over his mouth slowly before finally looking at me.
And God—
the violence in his eyes terrified me.
Not uncontrolled rage.
Controlled rage.
The worst kind.
“He sold information about you,” Damien said quietly.
My throat tightened.
“Who?”
“A man who won’t matter in an hour.”
The casual brutality of the statement stole my breath.
He fully meant it.
No hesitation.
No guilt.
And somehow the most frightening part wasn’t that Damien could kill someone.
It was that a part of me understood why he wanted to.
- Writer
