Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 230

Chapter 230 A Dark Investigation

Chapter 230 A Dark Investigation

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He had never considered himself a good man. A casual gesture from him could shutter a corporation. At least, that had been true before Isabelle. He was acutely aware of his own ruthless methods.

If he hadn’t been concerned about Isabelle’s reaction, Gary would have been at the bottom of the harbor long ago.

There was no way the man would still be skulking around is public.

He’d orchestrated similar endings more than a few times in years past. The darker rumors circulating about him in the business world hadn’t sprung from thin air.

As for Celeste, he had already shown considerable restraint, only because he remembered the support she’d offered during the grueling early days when he was building the company from the ground up.

After the incident at the estate, he had systematically stripped Celeste of her influence within the company. He never expected her to overreach even further now.

He rarely laid a hand on women. Nicole had been the first. Celeste would be the next.

Lucas closed his eyes, resting his head against the sofa back. “What do you need done?”

Damian leaned back in his executive chair, a silver pen in his right hand pressed against his temple, right where deep lines furrowed his brow. He slowly swiveled the chair.

“No rush. We’ll let it simmer a while longer,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Anyone who dares lay a finger on what’s mine… I’ll take my time dismantling them. A swift end would be a mercy they don’t deserve.”

Lucas slowly opened his eyes, his gaze settling on the man behind the desk.

The look in Damian’s eyes was dark, turbulent, filled with a biting, predatory

He rarely showed this side. The last time Lucas had seen that particular glint I was on a high–stakes assignment five years prior–the look of a blade meant for a killing stroke.

When Damian was truly provoked, even the devil would think twice.

Lucas grunted in acknowledgment and closed his eyes again, drifting toward sleep.

“Lucas.” Damian’s voice cut through the quiet.

The man on the sofa hadn’t even bothered to take off his boots, just had them propped on the cushion. Who knew how many days it had been since his last shower? A faint, gritty scent clung to him.

“Hmm?” Lucas responded, half–asleep.

“Get back to your own damn place.” Damian shot him a look, his tone distinctly unfriendly.

Lucas jerked, his eyes flying open as he stared at Damian in disbelief.

“I risk my neck for you, Damian, and you’re kicking me out after five minutes of shut–eye? Are you even human?” he grumbled, indignant.

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11:55 am PPP.

Chapter 230 A Dark Investigation

“That sofa was picked out by Isabelle. You can’t afford to replace it if you ruin it,” Damian stated flatly.

Talk about ditching your ends for a woman. Think having a partner makes you special?

“Still here?” Damian tilted his head, his gaze dropping pointedly to the boots on his furniture.

Lucas was fuming. “Fine! I’m gone!”

He scoffed, springing up from the sofa and straightening his wrinkled jacket as he went.

“You’re burning bridges, Damian. Forget your friends the second you settle down.”

Damian chuckled, a dry, humorless $ound. “Not at all. You’re still useful for the messy work.”

Lucas gave him a long, deeply meaningful look before turning on his heel and striding out of the study.

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Isabelle was in the kitchen preparing a honey–lemon tonic when she saw Lucas step out of the private elevator.

“I’m heading out, Isabelle,” Lucas said with a brief nod.

“Take care,” Isabelle replied, pressing her lips together as she watched him leave.

Lucas and Alaric ran a high–end security and risk consultancy together, one with considerable, shadowy reach. Covert investigation was their stock–in–trade, with networks spanning several continents.

Saying they lived on the edge was an understatement.

Isabelle pulled her gaze back, a complex mix of emotions settling in her chest.

Damian and his circle clearly shared a difficult, unspoken history. Otherwise, their expressions wouldn’t have been so grave earlier.

She tested the temperature of the drink, then

Three soft raps sounded on the study door.

ied it upstairs in a simple ceramic mug.

“Come in.” Damian was frowning, his attention wholly absorbed by the files on his screen.

Hearing the familiar, gentle footsteps, he swiftly minimized the active window.

That particular rhythm of steps belonged solely to the woman of this house–light, quiet, just like her.

“What brings you up here?” Damian swiveled his chair to face her as she approached.

He sat with his legs spread slightly, leaning back in the chair, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips. His white dress shirt was neatly buttoned, and the lines of his waistcoat perfectly accentuated his broad shoulders and trim waist.

His tailored trousers hugged the muscular lines of his thighs.

Isabelle averted her eyes and set the mug on the desk, not stepping into his immediate reach.

Damian caught her glance and chuckled low in his throat, his gaze heating.

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