Chapter 5 - A FATHER'S GHOST
At three in the morning, the storm began to abate, leaving the estate washed in wet gray fog.
Damian stood in his study, looking at the city lights blinking far in the distance across the bay. On the desk lay Dr. Vance’s encrypted phone, cracked open by Damian’s cyber team within forty minutes of his arrest.
The money trail was clear, but the truth was worse than Damian had anticipated.
Dr. Vance hadn't acted alone. He was merely the technician. The offshore bank account funding the hit was registered to a shell company in the Cayman Islands—a company owned by Julian Cross.
His brother.
A light knock came at the open study door.
Damian turned, his eyes tired and haunted. Alina stood there, holding a mug of chamomile tea. She looked pale, but there was a quiet strength in her posture that hadn't been there before.
"Sophia went back to sleep," Alina said gently. "Marcus has two men right outside her door. She made this for you before she fell asleep."
She walked over and placed a folded piece of paper beside the broken encrypted phone, along with the mug.
Damian unfolded the paper. On it was a crude crayon drawing of a large black lion with a golden mane. Standing beside the lion was a little girl in a yellow shirt holding a bright blue crayon like a sword. Underneath, in wobbly letters, Sophia had written: *FOR BOSS.*
Damian stared at the drawing for a long time.
"I had a daughter once," Damian said quietly, his voice catching slightly on a memory he had kept locked behind steel doors for a decade.
Alina stopped, surprised. "Mr. Cross... you don't have to talk about it."
"She would have been eleven this year," he continued, eyes fixed on the drawing. "Her name was Claire. Ten years ago, my rivals detonated a car bomb in Manhattan. It was meant for me. I was five minutes late to the car because of a phone call. Claire and her mother were already inside."
Alina covered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes. "Oh God, Damian... I am so sorry."
"That was the day my heart broke," Damian said, tapping his chest. "Literally. The grief destroyed my vascular system. Stress-induced cardiomyopathy. Three surgeries, pacemakers, synthetic grafts. I thought if I turned myself into a machine—if I cared about nothing, trusted no one, and ruled everything—I could survive."
He looked up at Alina, his cold gray eyes clear and alive for the first time in years.
"When your daughter looked at me this morning and told me the medicine was wrong, she didn't just save my life. She broke the spell. She reminded me that there are still things in this world worth protecting."
He folded the drawing carefully and placed it inside his inner jacket pocket, right next to his heart.
"What will you do about your brother?" Alina asked softly.
"Julian thinks I am taking the replacement pills Chen prepared," Damian said, his voice hardening into steel. "He thinks my heart is failing as we speak. Tomorrow night is the annual Cross Maritime Gala at the Manhattan Plaza Hotel. Julian scheduled an emergency shareholder vote to replace me as CEO, claiming my medical condition leaves me incapacitated."
"Are you going?"
May you like
"I am," Damian said, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "And I'm bringing the world down on his head."
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