Free Web NovelChapter 329: Brotherly Advice
"What the fuck do you mean you are getting married?" Damian sat deep into the sofa with his arms folded across his chest and one leg crossed over the other, staring at Twenty as though the man had just confessed to joining a cult.
The room was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fireplace and the distant hum of traffic beyond the glass windows. A half finished bottle of liquor rested between them on the low table, alongside two glasses, a cigar box, and the lighter Damian had been absentmindedly turning between his fingers.
Across from him, Twenty sat with his own legs crossed, his gaze fixed thoughtfully on some distant point beyond the room. He wore the expression of a man preparing to deliver a speech that would be remembered for generations, his chin slightly raised and his fingers loosely wrapped around his glass.
"A time comes when a boy must become a man," he said with slow, deliberate gravity.
The lighter shot across the table without warning. Twenty’s eyes widened as he ducked sharply, and the metal object flew past the side of his head before embedding itself into the wall behind him with a dull thud. His carefully constructed expression vanished immediately as he straightened in his seat and looked toward Damian with a mixture of shock and terror.
"I will strangle you with my mind if you play this bullshit with me," Damian said flatly, his gray eyes narrowing as a faint purple gleam flickered beneath them.
He had not moved from his seat, but the pressure in the room had changed enough for Twenty to understand that the threat was not entirely a joke.
"Calm down, brother. There is no need to get violent." Twenty laughed as he adjusted his posture, though he kept one eye on the lighter lodged in the wall.
"Come on, let’s not overreact. A handsome devil like me will eventually have to leave the streets and find peace. You are married too, so it is not that big of a deal." He reached for the bottle and calmly refilled his glass as if Damian had not nearly turned a simple conversation into a murder scene.
Damian’s face slowly twisted into an ugly smile.
"I’m married. That is exactly why it is a big deal. I’m trying to save you, man."
The seriousness in his voice made Twenty pause halfway through lifting his glass. For a moment, the room fell quiet as he studied Damian’s expression, trying to decide whether his friend was exaggerating for the sake of the joke or genuinely warning him.
Twenty’s face tightened as understanding slowly flashed through his eyes. He had seen Hazel, Racheal, and Ruby only a few times, always dressed beautifully and standing around Damian with the confidence of women who knew exactly where they belonged.
From the outside, their relationship looked perfect. Damian had power, wealth, women willing to kill for him, and a life most men would trade their souls to possess. Twenty had never considered that marriage could be the one thing capable of making a man like Damian look exhausted.
"Don’t tell me even you cannot tame them with all that good looks and power," Twenty said, genuinely shaken.
Damian shuddered slightly as memories of the early days of his relationship with his wives surfaced. Back then, he cared about every decision they made. He would lose his temper whenever they made plans without telling him, assumed he would agree with them, or acted as though his life belonged to all of them equally.
His liberation only came when he stopped caring about every little thing they did. The moment he stopped chasing after their approval and stopped reacting to their schemes, they began paying attention to everything he did instead.
"I’ll be honest," Damian began as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
"It has not been an easy journey. And it is definitely not the kind of journey you want to embark on when you just achieved your lifelong dreams barely six months ago. If you are looking for peace, you will definitely not find it in marriage."
Twenty stared at him with genuine disbelief. Damian was practically a god in his eyes. He had watched him walk into rooms full of powerful people and make them tremble without lifting a finger. He had watched him survive things no human being should survive. Yet now this same man was sitting across from him with a tired expression while warning him about marriage as though it was the most dangerous battlefield he had ever entered.
’God damn. Even gods ain’t safe from bitches,’ Twenty thought as he slowly leaned back.
"But I already proposed," Twenty said after a moment, his voice quieter than before.
"I can wipe her memories away if you want," Damian replied immediately.
Twenty blinked twice before staring at him in disbelief. "God damn, you really do not want me to get married."
Damian slowly shook his head.
"You are my black brother. I cannot let you lose half of our ministry in a divorce case."
The seriousness on his face lasted barely two seconds before Twenty burst into laughter. Damian tried to maintain his expression, but he quickly failed as well, and the two of them erupted into loud laughter that filled the room.
For the next hour, they drank, smoked, and spoke about everything except the things that truly weighed on them. Outside, the sun had already set after the long day in court, leaving the room darker than usual. The city lights beyond the windows reflected faintly against the glass, while smoke from their cigars gathered slowly beneath the ceiling.
Eventually, Twenty leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees.
"So what is the plan now?" he asked, his tone becoming more serious.
Damian took a slow sip from his glass before answering.
"I run for the Chicago governorship election. That is why I need my credibility and fan base to grow through my ties to the Ministry of Love and my judicial accomplishments." His answer was calm, but there was no hesitation in it. He had clearly thought about this for a long time.
Twenty nodded slowly as he processed the words. This was exactly what he had hoped Damian would say. The attention from the Victor Hale case, the public sympathy after the assassination attempt, and the Ministry of Love’s growing influence could not remain directionless forever. Fame without a goal faded quickly, but fame attached to a political movement could become something much larger.
At least now he understood where they were heading.
"Do you plan to become president someday?" Twenty asked.
Damian nodded almost immediately. "I will run for president after my first term as governor, and I will have you take my place."
The words were casual, but they made Twenty’s eyes widen with a spark of excitement.
A mob boss had always been the height of Twenty’s dreams. He had grown up believing that control over Chicago’s streets, businesses, and underground networks was the greatest power a man like him could ever reach. Damian was now exposing him to a dream that stood far beyond anything he had ever imagined.
"Okay, okay." Twenty sprang to his feet, suddenly energized. "But I think we have to move to the Conservative Party. This case already made us a lot of enemies in the Liberation Party."
Damian slowly shook his head, and the excitement in Twenty’s expression faded into curiosity.
"I have no intention of working with either party. I will create one of my own when the time comes. A party for all lovers of our great nation." Damian’s voice remained calm, but the last sentence carried an almost sadistic warmth as a faint pink glow surfaced within his eyes.
Twenty shuddered. He wanted to ask what Damian meant. He wanted to know what kind of party Damian planned to build, how he intended to challenge the two largest political forces in the country, and how far he was willing to go to make it happen. But something in his instincts warned him not to ask. There were some things best left unknown until Damian was ready to reveal them.
He fell back into his seat and nodded slowly while opening the cigar box. He picked out a thick cigar and placed it between his lips. Almost immediately, the other end burst into soft purple flames. He took a deep drag, released a long plume of smoke into the air, and let out a heavy sigh.
"All this seems too good to be true," Twenty said quietly. "My gut is telling me it may come to an end soon."
His rise had been astronomical. In less than a year, he had gone from chasing influence through Chicago’s streets to helping run a ministry with national attention, sitting beside a man who intended to become president, and preparing for a future where he could become governor.
Everything was going perfectly, and that was exactly what unsettled him. His life had never gone smoothly for an extended period. Every good thing he had ever gained had come with a cost, and he could not shake the feeling that something was waiting in the dark.
Damian chuckled softly, but he did not answer immediately because Twenty was not wrong. At any moment an enemy could succeed in killing him. If Damian died, Twenty would lose his greatest and only backing.
"All good things must come to an end," Damian said with a faint, bitter smile as he lifted his glass. "Let’s hope it is not the case for us."
He swallowed the rest of his liquor in one motion, then stared quietly at the city lights beyond the window as smoke drifted slowly through the room.
