39. Epilogue
Damier
One month later
T he house was quiet when I left at four in the morning. Dream and the kids were asleep upstairs, the room filled with the kind of peace I couldn’t afford right now. There was no part of me that wanted to leave, but I had to.
The call had come in early, waking me before the sun came up. Damian is gone.
The SUV ride to the dungeon felt like it stretched on forever. King sat silently in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel as we drove through the city. No music. No talking. Just the sound of the engine and the weight of what waited for me.
By the time we pulled up to the house, the knot in my stomach had twisted so tight it felt like it was suffocating me. This wasn’t just about handling business. This was my blood. My twin.
I walked through the cold house until we got to the basement. The door creaked open when I unlocked it, the dim light spilling into the room where his body lay. The air was heavy with the stench of decay the moment I stepped inside. I slipped on the hazmat mask one of my men handed me, but it barely helped. The dungeon wasn’t a place meant for anyone to survive, and Damian had been there for too long. I had heard from the men watching the house that he begged until the end for one of them to let him out, but they knew better than to feel sorry for him.
I stood there for a moment, just staring. He was unrecognizable. Sucked up and skeletal, his body twisted in a way that made it clear the end hadn’t been peaceful. The chains were still around his wrists, but there was no strength left in them. No fight.
I swallowed hard as I stepped closer. This wasn’t the Damian I grew up with, the brother I used to race bikes with down the block or trade secrets with when we were kids.
This was what greed and betrayal had turned him into.
“You should’ve chosen different, twin,” I murmured, my voice low, the words barely audible under the hum of the mask.
The smell was unbearable, but I forced myself to stay. I needed to see this. I needed to feel it. It was a lesson to me to always stay loyal to my family.
After a while, I turned to the men standing behind me. “Get it done. He will be cremated, so you know where to take him,” I said, my voice cold.
They nodded, moving in to handle the cleanup while I stepped outside, ripping the mask off as the fresh air hit me. I leaned against the wall of the warehouse, closing my eyes for a moment.
I didn’t feel relieved. I didn’t feel satisfied. I just felt… empty.
By the time I got back to the Knight Estate, the sun was already up. My mother was waiting in her study, her face calm, but her eyes searching mine the moment I walked in.
“It’s done,” I said simply, sitting down across from her.
Her shoulders sagged slightly, the only sign that she was carrying any emotion at all. “Okay,” she softly said.
I nodded, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at her. “What do you want me to tell the girls?”
She hesitated, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “Tell them he passed naturally, but I will be there with you to tell them. They don’t need to know the details, and for them, we will have a small ceremony since he will be cremated.”
I nodded again, standing. “We’ll handle it.”
“Damier,” she said, stopping me as I reached the door.
I turned back to her, her eyes meeting mine.
“You did what you had to do,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “Don’t carry it with you.”
I didn’t respond. I just nodded and walked out, the weight of her words following me as I headed outside so King could take me back home.
Thirty minutes later, King pulled up to the curb outside my house, the engine idling as I sat there for a moment, staring at the door.
“You alright, nephew?” King asked, his tone low but steady.
I nodded, letting out a slow breath. “Yeah. I’m fucked up a little, but I'm good.”
“You gon’ be alright,” he said.
I stepped out, the cool morning air brushing against my skin as I walked up to the house.
When I stepped into the room, the sight of them eased some of the tension in my chest. Dream was awake, holding the baby and humming softly as she rocked him. Donta was sitting in front of her in a bouncy chair, holding his own bottle, looking like he was getting ready to fall back asleep.
She looked up when she saw me, her expression softening. “I was just about to text you. Everything okay? You left suddenly.”
I nodded, sitting down beside her and leaning my head back against the couch. “Yeah,” I said, my voice low. “Everything’s good.”
She didn’t press, and for that, I was grateful.
As I reached out to run a hand over the baby’s soft ginger curls, I felt something shift inside me. Damian was gone. That chapter of my life was finally closed.
And now, it was time to move forward with the family I created.
The End