The night

Damian stepped out of the interrogation room, his coat brushing against the doorframe. The cold night air hit him like a wave, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the room he'd left behind. The streets of Texas stretched out before him, illuminated by flickering streetlights and the occasional glow of a passing car.

He climbed into his sleek black SUV convertible, gripping the wheel tightly. As the engine roared to life, Damian sped down the deserted roads, his mind racing as fast as the vehicle. How had it come to this? His father's relentless pursuit of power had cast a shadow over the family, creating divisions that now seemed insurmountable. And Dennis... Dennis had been the embodiment of that darkness.

The hum of the engine drowned out his thoughts as he drove to his sanctuary—a place he frequented to escape the chaos of his life. The hotel, aptly named "DEW," stood like a beacon in the distance. It wasn't just a hotel to Damian; it was a fortress, a haven where he could retreat and regroup. Unlike other hotels with their myriad restrictions, DEW offered him the freedom to be himself, to wield control even in the midst of uncertainty.

He arrived and handed his keys to the valet, his expression stoic. Stepping into the dimly lit lobby, the familiar scent of lavender and leather greeted him. Damian bypassed the reception desk; they knew better than to stop him. He was a regular, a man whose presence commanded respect without words.

Inside his suite, the blue lights cast an ethereal glow across the room. Everything was as he liked it—cold, minimalistic, and utterly detached from the outside world. Damian loosened his tie and collapsed onto the plush bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was a storm, thoughts colliding as he contemplated his next move.

Dennis would pay for his betrayal. But how? Damian knew he couldn't rush this. The stakes were too high, and the game too dangerous.

For now, he allowed himself a moment of breath, to steel him self for the battle ahead