Bound To The Devil

chapter 89

Damien rolled his eyes, gripping the phone tighter. “Shut up, Vasillev. This isn’t about you.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Oh? So you just happened to miss my voice?”

“I swear to god—”

“Relax,” Sebastian cut in. “You’re always so tense, brother. What is it this time? Did Luca finally kick you out of bed?”

Damien ground his teeth. He had no patience for this right now. Not with Luca being sick. Not with the ghosts of their past resurfacing.

“This is serious, Sebastian,” he growled, his tone sharp enough to wipe the smirk off Vasillev’s face. “They know.”

A beat of silence.

Then Sebastian’s tone dropped, all amusement fading. “Who?”

Damien’s jaw clenched. “You already know.”

Sebastian let out a slow breath. “And you’re sure?”

Damien’s gaze flickered back toward the bedroom, where Luca was resting. His stomach twisted.

“They wouldn’t let this slide,” Damien muttered. “The moment they realized we—” he hesitated, then forced the word out, “—reunited, they were bound to crawl out of their graves.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply. “I see.”

Damien didn’t need to explain further. They both knew who “they” were. The shadows of their past, the enemies that never truly died, the ones who had waited—watched—for any sign of weakness.

And now, they saw it.

Sebastian was silent for a moment before speaking again, his voice edged with steel. “I’ll keep my territory on lockdown.”

“Good.” Damien’s tone was flat. “And keep Valarie close. I don’t trust this to stay clean.”

Sebastian clicked his tongue. “Look at you. All protective over my woman now?”

Damien scowled. “She’s my man’s sister. If anything happens to her, Luca will never forgive me.”

Sebastian hummed in amusement. “Ah. So it’s still about Luca.”

Damien growled. “Sebastian.”

Sebastian chuckled again, but it was lower now, darker. “Fine. I’ll play nice. But Damien—” His voice dipped, quieter now. “If they’ve come back… this won’t end the way it did last time.”

Damien’s grip on the phone tightened.

“I know.”

Because this time, they weren’t just fighting for themselves.

They were fighting for the people they couldn’t afford to lose.

*
– Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, fingers lazily drumming against the desk as he watched the city skyline. The sun was rising , bathing the world in deep oranges and reds—the color of blood.

Fitting.

On the other end of the line, Damien exhaled sharply. “It’s not just one problem.” His voice was clipped, controlled. Too controlled.

Sebastian smirked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “It never is.”

Damien ignored the sarcasm. “They’ve been waiting. Watching. The moment they saw us together, they moved.”

Sebastian’s smirk faded. He already knew who “they” were. The old enemies. The ones who had wanted them dead for years.

“You think they’re working together?” Sebastian asked, voice calm despite the weight of the conversation.

Damien scoffed. “They don’t need to. We have enough bodies in the ground for a hundred different grudges.”

Sebastian chuckled darkly. “And here I thought you’d mellowed out.”

Damien didn’t answer immediately.

Then—

“There’s something else.”

Sebastian arched a brow. “Go on.”

Damien hesitated. “Mikhail.”

Sebastian’s grip on his glass tightened slightly.

Mikhail.

Sebastian exhaled slowly. “He’s still in the picture, then.”

“Not as the biggest threat,” Damien admitted. “But he’s there.”

Sebastian scoffed. “Of course he is. A cockroach like him doesn’t die easily. Fucker always run.”

Damien’s tone darkened. “He won’t stop.”

Sebastian smirked. “Neither will I.”

A pause.

Then Damien chuckled. “You sound excited.”

Sebastian swirled his whiskey. “What can I say? I love a challenge.”

Damien sighed. “Just keep your eyes open.”

Sebastian smirked. “Always.”

Because if Mikhail thought he could take what was his— His family & territory.

He was about to learn how wrong he was.
*