Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 302

Maxwell’s POV

The gun in Damien’s hand didn’t waver.

My father was still pointing his weapon at both of us, his eyes wild and manic, his finger twitching on the trigger.

And I stood there, frozen, caught between the two of them, not knowing who was going to shoot first.

"Damien," our father said, his voice approving now. "Good. Very good. I knew you’d see reason eventually. The company should be yours. It was always meant to be yours."

"Dad’s right," Damien said, and his voice was cold in a way I’d never heard before. "Maxwell, you’ve been running Wellington and Sons into the ground with your obsession over that woman. It’s time for a change in leadership."

My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear over it.

He’s playing along, I told myself desperately. He has to be playing along.

But the gun was so steady in his hand. And his eyes were so cold.

"Damien," I said quietly. "Don’t do this."

"Don’t do what?" He tilted his head, a smile playing at his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. "Don’t take what should have been mine from the beginning? Don’t align myself with the only parent who ever actually believed in me?"

"You don’t mean that..."

His voice rose suddenly, "You got everything, Maxwell. The company. Dad’s respect before he lost his mind. And now you get the girl too? While I lost Kira to Kennedy - even though I literally used your method to woo her - where’s the justice in that?"

"Damien..."

"You know what?" Damien interrupted, his voice taking on a casual tone that made my skin crawl. "I think Dad’s right. You do deserve to die. So let me just..."

He shifted his stance, the gun moving slightly as if adjusting his aim.

And then everything happened at once.

Damien lunged - not at me, but at our father.

His body slammed into the older man’s frame, sending them both crashing to the floor, the gun skittering across the hardwood.

"SECURITY!" I shouted, already pulling out my phone. "Get up here NOW!"

Damien and our father were wrestling on the floor, a tangle of limbs and grunts and violence.

I saw my father’s hand close around his gun.

Saw Damien grab his wrist.

Saw them struggle, the weapon caught between them, both fighting for control.

"Give it UP, old man!" Damien snarled.

"TRAITOR!" Our father spat back. "You’re just like your brother! Weak! Pathetic!"

The gun was between them, both their hands on it, pointing up, then down, then sideways as they rolled across the floor.

I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs - my security team responding to my call.

But they were too slow.

The gun went off.

BANG

The sound was deafening in the enclosed space, echoing off the walls, making my ears ring.

Both bodies went still.

Time seemed to freeze.

I stared at the two of them, lying motionless on the floor, and my heart stopped beating entirely.

Blood. There was blood pooling everywhere, spreading out in a dark, terrible stain.

But I couldn’t tell whose blood it was.

"Damien?" My voice came out hoarse, broken. "DAMIEN!"

I ran to them, dropping to my knees beside the bodies, my hands shaking as I reached out.

Please not Damien. Please God, not Damien. Let it be the old man. Please.

I grabbed our father’s shoulder and shoved him off of Damien with more force than necessary, rolling the body to the side.

Damien lay there, his eyes closed, his chest still, blood on his shirt.

"No. No, no, no." I grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "Damien! Come on, open your eyes! Don’t you dare die on me! DAMIEN!"

Nothing.

He was completely still.

I pressed my fingers to his neck, searching desperately for a pulse, for the bullet wound...

And his eyes snapped open.

"Boo," he said.

I jerked back so hard I nearly fell over.

Damien started laughing, the laughter echoing through the room.

"You should see your face!" he gasped between laughs, sitting up like he hadn’t just given me a heart attack. "Oh my God, Maxwell. If it isn’t my cold, selfish, emotionally constipated brother looking so vulnerable and emotional!"

"You..." I couldn’t even form words. My heart was still racing, adrenaline flooding my system, my hands still shaking. "You ASSHOLE!"

"Seriously though," Damien continued, wiping tears from his eyes because he was laughing so hard. "Do you get this vulnerable with Olivia? Because if so, I completely understand why she..."

I lunged at him, my fist already swinging toward his stupid, grinning face.

He dodged, barely, still laughing.

"Hey, hey! I just saved your life! A little gratitude would be nice!"

"I’m going to KILL you!" I shouted, taking another swing.

My security team stood by the door, taking in the scene - me trying to strangle my brother while he laughed, and our father’s body on the floor.

"Sir?" the head of security said uncertainly. "Is everything... under control?"

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth, still holding Damien in a headlock. "Everything’s fine."

"Speak for yourself," Damien choked out, still somehow managing to sound amused. "Your boss is trying to murder me."

I released him with a shove and turned to look at our father’s body.

Really look at it this time.

He was lying on his back, his eyes open and staring at nothing, a bullet hole in his chest that was still oozing blood.

Dead?

"Is he...?" I couldn’t finish the question.

Damien got to his feet, brushing off his clothes, and walked over to check the pulse I should have checked first instead of panicking over him.

"Dead as a doornail," he confirmed. "Again. Except this time it’s for real."

I ran my hand through my hair, trying to get my breathing under control.

"What do we do now?" Damien asked, looking at me expectantly.

I looked at the body. At the blood. At the gun still lying on the floor.

"The man was already dead before," I said slowly. "Officially. Ten years ago. So we’ll just have to dispose of him completely this time. Without a trace."

I turned to my security team.

"I need this cleaned up. The body, the blood, everything. Make it disappear like it never happened. Can you do that?"

The head of security nodded without hesitation. "Yes, sir. We’ll handle it."

"And not a word to anyone," I added. "No one can know about this. Ever."

"Understood."