Chapter 2 Mythic Grey #2
There were many reasons why my clients chose to purchase weapons from me.
Organized crime syndicates sought out my services to acquire weapons quickly and discreetly.
I had access to a wider variety of weapons than what was available legally.
This included military-grade firearms, explosives, and other specialized equipment that was restricted or prohibited for civilian purchase.
Purchasing weapons through legal channels required documentation and background checks, which created a paper trail and revealed the buyer’s identity.
By buying from an arms dealer, criminals could maintain secrecy and avoid law enforcement.
Even for those who purchased weapons for recreational purposes, getting weapons legally was subject to regulations, waiting periods, and other governmental hurdles that delayed the purchase process.
I offered a more streamlined and expedited means of obtaining weapons, bypassing the need for paperwork and official approval.
The clients in our world were diverse. Most were the mafia or the cartel. Their greedy appetite for control drove them to seek out the deadliest weapons money could buy.
But it wasn’t just the criminals who came knocking on my door. We had clients from all walks of life, from corrupt politicians looking to arm their private security details to wealthy businessmen seeking protection for their illicit dealings.
No matter who they were or what they wanted, they all paid generously for my services.
“For now, we’ll just have to tread carefully,” I told Taye after a moment of reflection. “My reputation and status in this city are just as lethal as any cartel. They know better than to come at me sideways.”
Taye nodded, but I could see doubt lingering in his brow. “Okay. But things are getting tense out there. We might need to start thinking about halting business to both sides.”
I clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. “If it comes to it, we’ll handle it, like we always do.”
DAMAR SCOTT
I eased the front door open quietly and slipped into the darkness of the foyer without making a sound. It was nearly four in the morning, and I knew Aviana had been asleep for hours since she and Mia had left Enchant a little after midnight.
My heart was still pumping like I’d had three energy drinks, so I passed our bedroom, walked down the hallway, and slipped into my home office.
I shut the door gently behind me. My eyes adjusted quickly to the dimness as I moved toward the rug in the center of the room.
Kneeling down, I carefully rolled one corner back and slipped my fingers under a loose floorboard.
It creaked softly as I lifted it up. Reaching inside, I pulled out the phone and pressed the power button, feeling a dark satisfaction as the apple lit up the screen.
This was Aviana’s old phone.
Months ago, she’d misplaced it during a small party we’d thrown. We’d both shrugged it off as stolen or accidentally tossed out with the trash. She bought a replacement the very same night, which arrived the next day.
But weeks later, I found it under the couch while looking for the TV remote.
Curious, I charged the phone and powered it on.
I had been wondering if another man was responsible for the emotional chill she’d been giving me.
Aviana had blamed my work schedule on her unhappiness, yet something told me there was another reason for the detachment behind those pretty brown eyes.
That night, I’d scrolled through her messages, searching for proof.
At first, I just found boring conversations with friends and family.
But then the phone chimed in my hand, lighting up with a new message.
And then another. Real-time texts appeared on the screen, and suddenly, I understood.
She’d never deleted this phone from her iCloud account.
As long as the phone was connected to Wi-Fi, it got every call and text message.
So, I’d hidden the phone, obsessively checking it every chance I got. I even took it on trips with me. It became my compulsive lifeline to further guarantee control over her.
Using the old phone, I’d shared her location with me.
There were tiny, wireless cameras strategically hidden throughout the house where the security cameras weren’t. I watched her at my leisure, studying her.
If she was hiding something, I’d know.
I’d even installed a keylogger on her laptop. Every email she typed, every search she made, I monitored from my own devices.
Aviana would always be mine. I’d invested too many years molding her into exactly what I wanted, shaping her decisions, her habits, even her friendships. She thought she’d chosen me freely, but freedom was an illusion I’d carefully crafted.
I leaned back slowly in my leather chair.
My eyes were locked on the phone as messages poured in.
Aviana was smart, beautiful, and talented.
She had qualities I loved when they served me, but ones I had to temper when they didn’t.
Every time she took a step forward, achieved something, found confidence or strength, I reminded her of her limitations with an indirect comment about her inability to succeed without me, a casual remark of doubt masked as concern, or an unintentional dismissal of her ambitions that she believed to be harmless teasing.
Over time, those quiet words sank in, weakening her foundation.
I had become the source of her validation and the measuring stick for her worth.
I knew exactly what I was doing.
Because Aviana couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t.
Not when I’d convinced her that no one else would truly understand her or take care of her the way I could.
Every carefully timed withdrawal of affection, every cold shoulder I gave her always brought her back to me, needy and desperate for my approval.
She thrived on the rare praise I rationed out like expensive gifts and starved with my calculated detachment.
Love was ownership. And Aviana was my most prized possession. I couldn’t allow someone else to take her away.
So, I watched. I tracked. I manipulated. It was easy because she never suspected the monster behind my charming smile. And as long as she believed that smile, she would always remain exactly where she belonged, which was under my control, by my side. Forever.
My eyes moved over Aviana’s latest batch of text messages. They were mundane conversations about hair appointments, plans with Mia, a new brunch spot her mother wanted to check out.
The phone in my pocket vibrated suddenly. Sliding Aviana’s phone onto the desk, I pulled out my own. An unsaved number flashed across the screen.
I grinned cockily as I read the text.
773-965-9887: Did you make it home safely?
Damar: Yeah. Just walked in.
I didn’t even set the phone down before it buzzed again.
773-965-9887: Thank you for tonight. I really needed that.
As I typed my response, smugness rolled off me.
Damar: I know you did. Don’t worry, you’ll get more soon.
MYTHIC GREY
A harsh retching sound yanked me out of my sleep.
My eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the sunlight.
I instinctively reached beside me. My fingers slid over cold sheets where Lelani was supposed to be.
I sat up, squinting toward the master bathroom door.
It was slightly open, and a sliver of dim yellow light lit the floor.
“Lee?” I called out.
Just as I swung my legs out of bed, I heard the toilet flush, so I decided to just wait. I soon heard the sound of running water, then the vibrations of her electric toothbrush.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door swung open fully. Lelani stepped out slowly, sluggish and exhausted. She padded back to the bed and crawled in beside me, sinking into the mattress.
“You good?” I asked as I shifted onto my side to face her.
“Yeah,” she murmured weakly.
I exhaled, frowning. The nausea, headaches, and exhaustion were becoming a nightly thing.
“You sure you’re not pregnant?”
“Mythic, I promise I’m not pregnant.”
A quiet relief spread through me, and I hated myself for it.
Lelani was a good woman. She was the kind of woman who deserved the world.
She deserved a man who would celebrate the thought of her carrying his child.
But whenever I imagined myself as a father, it was always Aviana I saw holding my child.
To picture anyone else in her place felt like betrayal.
“Then you need to see a doctor—soon. Something’s not right.”
“I know,” she admitted quietly. “I’ll make an appointment later today.”
“Good.” I drew her closer, allowing her to curl against my chest. “We gotta get to the bottom of it.”
She nodded against me, burrowing deeper into my hold. I stroked her hair gently, feeling guilty for my relief, for my thoughts, for holding Lelani in my arms when my heart wasn’t fully here.