Damon's POV
The jet cabin was silent, save that the engines were running quietly. Leather seats shone in the dim light and my team sat and stared at me all alert yet calm. I sat up, with steepled fingers and keen eyes.
"Lila Hayes," I said, my voice low. "Give me her schedule."
One of my team members gave me a tablet. I went through it very thoroughly: morning meetings, gym sessions, charity appearances, business lunches, dinners, and personal engagements. Each hour was counted, each step was foreseen. My mind had started to put together how I would go about her, how I would subtly go in and sow seeds that would sprout into leverage.
I looked up. We are investing in one of the Hayes companies. I desire a conference to-morrow morning. Early. Set it up."
My PA nodded. "Done. Everything is scheduled to a morning meeting. They'll accept."
I sat back in my seat, and shut my eyes. Sleep followed very soon. But like in most cases, my sleep was not a tranquil one. Rather it caused a nightmare.
I was a boy again, seven years old. I sat on the floor of the living room with Alene, Ethan and Sophie all of us staring at the television. The light comedies became solemn when the news was announced--a story about a girl who had dropped along a flight of stairs and killed herself. The face of my sister Alene twisted in anger at once.
"That's a lie," she said. Her voice sharp and imperious.
"What do you mean?" my mother asked, frowning.
"I saw her," Alene said quickly. "I saw her with Ryan."
My father's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She did not want him to--he would not give her. I heard her pleading, I said, Alene, and her voice shook a little. "I saw it happen."
My parents looked at each other. My mother turned to switch off the TV. "Stop talking," she said firmly. "Don't say you saw anything. Just stop it."
Alene looked shocked. "Why? Why should I keep quiet?"
My dad said, in a deep, but serious, voice, Because Ryan is a bad person. And his family is like that. Just... stop. Understand, Alene. Keep quiet."
I sat still on the floor, my little hands clinging to my knees, my ears cocked to hear all, my heart aching with fright and bewilderment.
The dream shifted. I was there on days later when the police arrived. They took the body of Alene home. I saw her, my elder sister, hurt, battered, the life out of her in a manner no child ought ever to see. My mother fell, wept herself to tears. My father looked sorrowful with a tightened face and his eyes dark with grief. Ethan and Sophie stood hanging on me, crying without saying anything. I was helpless and was too young to do anything.
Her funeral was not too long afterwards. I saw them bury her in the grave and the dirt struck the wood. The world appeared to be unbelievably cruel, weighty, oppressive.
Afterwards, I heard my parents whispering at night. I tried to listen quietly.
It is the Steele family, we know it is, my father said, voice low but hard. "Alene... she knew the truth. They had to silence her."
"But why didn't you do anything?" I asked, voice trembling.
You are too young to know, my mother said. "One day... you'll understand."
I did not realize then, and years on, I was living with the memory of powerlessness, the feeling of not being able to save her, the feeling of anger at everyone who had killed her.
The night terror had ceased, as it always did, with a low, icy feeling of fear that remained in my heart. I awoke with a jolt, and my hands shook, and my flesh was prickly with sweat. Dr. Harlow was at my elbow in a moment, and his hand was on my shoulder.
"You're awake," he said softly. "Breathe, Damon. You're safe now."
I nodded, and it was difficult to swallow, to get the fast beat in my chest to subside. My throat felt raw. I sighed, and I tried to concentrate on the fact that I was sitting in the leather seat of the jet, that I could hear the engines running under my feet, that I was no longer the helpless boy I used to be.
The voice of the pilot came through the intercom just when I was starting to get control.
Ladies and gentlemen, we are in BlackRidge.
The words hit me like a shot. I sat up, holding the armrests. The city which had stolen so much, the city which had ruined my family, was right outside. All the memories, all the losses, all the promises of revenge I had never fulfilled all these flooded into me.
I dropped my hands into my laps and shut my eyes. Alene, Ethan, Sophie... I needed to retrieve them and I needed to make them pay. Lila Hayes. Ryan Steele. Leo Blackwood. All the features of those who had made my family suffer went through my head. The initial elements of my plan would fall into place today.
The hand of Dr. Harlow touched me on the shoulder. Remember the triggers, he said. "Noise, lights, sparks. Follow the plan. You can do it, you see, because you will be all right.
I opened my eyes and nodded my head. "I'm ready," I said.
The jet doors were opened, and the smell of BlackRidge smote me instantly--old, stifling, and bad. I got up, with the burden of my history, the loss of Alene, the imprisonment of Ethan and Sophie pushing on my chest.
The second I sat in the car my guard said, A mail from the Hayes Headquarters.
"Ignore it. I will speak to them to-morrow morning. I said, and looked on the road before.
There was no talking on the ride down to my house in BlackRidge. The eyes of my guards were fixed on the road as some of them were watching screens to get more information.
"Home." My therapist replied, and pulled me out of thought, as the black gates of a huge mansion swung open.
"Hm." Came my short reply.
Sir we just have new reports on Sophie and Ethan. The car parked and my guard said.
"What's that?"