She would marry someone else one day.
But before that, there would be death.
Before that, there would be justice.
Before that, the traitor would pay.
Not with a trial.
Not with a prison.
With blood.
Because that was the only language Damien understood.
That was the only language the traitor left him with.
---
The one hundred fifty-fourth week, Damien and Christabel sat in the garden.
The rose was still blooming.
The seedling was still growing.
But they were not the same people who had planted them.
The cracks were too deep.
The trust was too broken.
And the marriage was hanging by a thread.
---
The traitor thought they had escaped.
They had left the penthouse.
Left the city.
Left the country.
They thought they were safe.
They were wrong.
Damien had been watching.
Waiting.
Planning.
He knew where they were going.
He knew when they would arrive.
He knew how they would die.
---
The trap was set in a small town.
Not in America.
In Europe.
A place the traitor thought was neutral.
A place the traitor thought was safe.
A place the traitor thought Damien couldn't reach.
They didn't know Damien.
They didn't know his reach.
They didn't know his rage.
---
Christabel didn't go.
She couldn't.
She had said goodbye once.
She couldn't do it again.
"I can't watch," she said.
"You don't have to."
"I can't stop you."
"You don't have to."
"Then what do I do?"
He touched her face.
"Wait for me."
---
The warehouse was cold.
Concrete floors.
Steel beams.
Flickering lights.
The traitor stood in the center.
Hands cuffed.
Eyes wide.
Mouth open.
"Damien—"
"Don't."
"Please—"
"Don't."
"You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do."
---
Damien walked closer.
"You were family."
"I am family."
"You were family."
"I made a mistake."
"You made a choice,to sell everything real for how much 200k i could have given you more jax,i know you arent smart enough to pull it off so who is ur handler??"
The traitor's eyes filled with tears.
"I loved you."
"I loved you too."
"Then why—"
"You tried to destroy my family."
"I tried to save you."
"From what?"
"From each other."
Damien was quiet for a moment.
"You failed."
"Is that your last words jax? My patience runs very thin"
He pulled out a gun.
Not pointed at the traitor's chest.
At their head.
"Any last words?"
The traitor was crying.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry isn't enough,for what you did,death is motherfucker"
"I know."
"Then why did you say it?"
The traitor looked at him.
"Because it's all I have."
Damien fired.
The body fell.
The blood of marcus the therapist spread.
The silence was deafening.
He stood over the traitor.
His hands were steady.
His face was calm.
But his eyes were red.
He had cried.
He would cry again.
But not now.
Now, he had to finish.
---
He made a call.
Cole answered.
"It's done."
"Where?"
"The warehouse."
"I'll send a team."
"Thank you."
"Are you okay?"
"No."
"Neither am I."
---
Damien drove home.
The city was dark.
The streets were empty.
The penthouse was quiet.
Christabel was waiting.
She didn't ask.
She didn't need to.
She just held him.
"I'm here."
"I know."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I know."
"I love you."
"I know."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
Lena was full of questions.
"Mama, why is Papa sad?"
"Because Papa lost someone."
"Who?"
"Someone he loved."
Lena thought about that.
"Did they die?"
Christabel was quiet for a moment.
"Yes."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep?"
"She's dreaming."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"The traitor is gone."
"I know."
"The chain is broken."
"I know."
"The war is over."
She looked at him.
"Is it?"
---
He was quiet for a moment.
"One war is over."
"And the next?"
"We'll fight it together."
"Together?"
"Together."