Chapter 7

"Listen to yourself. You're going to kill him? You're the CEO of the Delaney Company, you have billions at your disposal, you're even going to be part of a secret cult that'll basically make you superhuman. Why not use all that against him. Make the revenge slow and painful, don't let him see it coming. "

His anger subsided in an instant. Of course he could make Saul's punishment painful and drawn out. After years of making Damien suffer, Saul deserved all his ill-gotten gains ripped out of his hands. His stomach growled. After such an eventful day, he had forgotten to eat something.

"You need food." She eyed his rumpled clothes. "And new clothes. But food first." She stretched over the keys to the Rolls Royce. "I did say it would be yours if you listened to me."

Damien still couldn't process his new situation. Was this all some sort of elaborate prank? Surely it couldn't be.

"My drivers licence got towed away with my car. You drive."

Angela smiled widely. It seemed Damien hadn't fully grasped the power he just came into. The Delaney Company and all its subsidiaries were responsible for over 80% of the economy. As the CEO, he essentially has qualified immunity recognised by the president and no cop would have the right to stop him for driving without a licence. She figured he'd had enough life changing news for one day.

She tossed the keys to him. "Drive anyway. You need to get used to it."

They got in the car and Angela punched in their destination in the satnav before they drove off. Damien started recognising the area but it wasn't until they arrived did he realise he had driven to Dame's Court.

They got out of the car and as soon as the valet came over the park their car, Damien recognized him from earlier. He was the one who got his car towed.

The valet was stunned and frozen. Not only had Damien come out of a Rolls Royce but he had a breathtaking woman with him. Had he misjudged him earlier? No, he couldn't have. This guy must be a poser who rented the car and hired an escort to try and regain his dignity.

"You again. I'm sure you took out a loan to rent this car right," he laughed heartily. "And that woman, she's an escort right?"

Angela was puzzled but the accusation of her being an escort was too much.

"What did you just say to me?" She demanded.

The valet laughed. "Oh calm down sweetheart. I'm defending you. No matter how much he paid, you shouldn't be with a pretentious scumbag like him. Come on and let me show you a good time, I'm sure I can pay you double of whatever he gave you."

Damien, who had been silent, felt a twinge in his chest. He couldn't stand the thought of someone calling a dignified woman like Angela an escort. He stepped towards the valet.

"You've been running your mouth all night but now you've gone too far. Apologise to her right now."

The valet and all his co-workers laughed. Surely this clown wasn't going to try anything.

"Or what?"

Angela knew what was coming next. She had a first row seat to the devastation Damien could cause.

"Let's just go in." She rushed over to the driver's side and grabbed Damien's arm, pulling him away from the taunting valet. "Besides, it wouldn't be nice to have a whole CEO squabbling with the valet."

Unwilling to go on another violence spree, he followed her in.

Angela loved the Rolls Royce too much to let the valet take it for a joy ride. "I'll be right back. I need to make sure they don't wreck my… your car."

But he knew she was lying. He wouldn't be surprised if she hurt them more than he ever could.

He watched her vanish out of the front entrance before he could utter a word of protest.

"What are you doing here again? Wasn't one round of embarrassment enough for you?"

Damien remembered her shrill voice from earlier that night. Even before he glanced at her, he felt her eyes boring into and through the side of his head.

"You damn pauper. You know damn well you can't afford to eat here. Are you trying to steal from our establishment? Yes, that must be it. You're a thief and you're casing the joint."

Damien watched her eyes fill with hatred and wondered why this random woman who didn't even know him despised him so much.

"I am not a thief," he said.

Her eyes were wild and crazy, as if she was ready to pounce on him and beat him to a pulp. "Then why do you keep coming here? Your kind don't belong here. You should be in whatever local diner you can afford, stuffing your face with all the salty and greasy food you can eat because that's where you belong. You don't belong here. Get out," she thundered.

The commotion drew out the manager, a stunning woman in an elegant evening dress. She gracefully walked over to where Damien and the hostess were facing off.

Damien couldn't help taking in her full figure. She had a body sculpted by aphrodite herself and her face must have been a prototype for an angel. She smelled like jasmine, an intoxicating scent that made his head swoon.

"What's going on here?"

Finally her boss had arrived and would put this cretin in his place.

"Miss Abigail, this man isn't a customer. He is just a pauper who walked in off the street. He can't even afford our cheapest meal."

Abigail was taken aback. She had vetted the hostess well and was sure she had peak customer service skills. Why was she being so rude?

"How do you know he isn't a customer," she asked the hostess.

How could she not know? Anyone with a working pair of eyes could assess him in a second and determine that.

"Miss Abigail, just look at his clothes. Look how dirty and ragged they are. Is this the calibre of customers we usually accept?"

Abigail had indeed noted his rough clothes but she was one to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he had gotten into a fight and wanted to replenish his strength with a hearty meal.

She felt inexplicably drawn to him. Truly, he looked out of place but what confidence he must have to step into the prestigious Dame's Court looking like he just got out of a fight. He was so tall, so handsome.

"It doesn't matter what a customer dresses like. We accept all paying customers."