Damien ✔️

Drugs

"Where are they", Damien demanded.

He had just arrived at his off-site warehouse after stopping by his house to change. The front door slammed behind him as he adjusted the cufflinks on his suit and marched through the secure facility.

"They're in the office. Can you relax for like two seconds? I swear to God you always walk around like you have a stick jammed up your ass."

Liam Callister, Damien's right-hand and best friend, answered his question with words that only he could use because of their long-time friendship. Anyone else would end up with a bullet in their skull, their body lying in an unmarked grave.

As such, Damien simply rolled his eyes at the remark. His face remained stony and eerily impassive as he rounded the corner on the way to his office.

Guards stood at the door, their faces mirroring Damien's expression, yet their eyes didn't meet his own. They opened the double doors of the large room, allowing Damien and Liam to step in and greet their guests.

A young boy who looked to be around 18 years of age stood up immediately to greet the powerful man.

"Sir, my name is Dane Lowe. I've heard so much about you, it's truly an honour to meet—"

Damien lifted his hand to silence the rambling teen, disregarding the surprised expression that befell his face. Damien didn't usually greet people who wanted to be his couriers, as the vetting was often done by his own employees. However, he stepped in every now and then to eye the demographic that was working for him; and, more often than not, he found himself faced with over eager teens who were members of an amateur street gang.

"Age, name, credentials", Damien lulled as if he was bored of the routine.

The young boy's smile faltered slightly but he quickly composed himself— back straightening up and chin jutting out.

"Dane Lowe, 18 years old, member of the Grims and right-hand to leader Kane Plint. We've delivered drugs for Calvin Peter, Luke Flin and Wesley Rivers. All happy customers, I can tell ya that!"

Damien circled Lowe as he gave his spiel, before lowering himself on the black couch across from him. He threw his leg over his knee, letting his ankle rest on the dress pants that cost more than the leather he was sitting on.

"Wesley Rivers?" Damien questioned while stroking his jaw.

The name alone drove his blood pressure through the roof, his jaw twitching as he spoke the name he loathed.

"Yes sir." The potential recruit exclaimed proudly. His chest puffing out in pride.

Damien hummed in acknowledgement and the air become tense with silence. Liam's eyes flickered down to where his friend sat, waiting for a reaction that he knew that name would provoke.

However, Damien shocked his group with his reply.

"Excellent. I have a high-profile customer who has requested a variety of ten packs, peelers, poppers and Mary Jane. He's expecting it tomorrow at 8pm. Sharp. This is your trial run, and if he's pleased, I will be as well."

Damien got up after his announcement, barely acknowledging the boy's killer watt smile and ignoring the endless string of gratitude he spurted at the brooding man.

Sighing as he exited the room, Damien thought back to the name that was brought up, Wesley Rivers. He didn't consider most people worth his time but Rivers, he was someone he despised. He was a competitor in almost everything he excelled in, and a threat to all that he had built.

"Yo, Damien, what the fuck was that" Liam exclaimed while slapping his hand on Damien's back.

Damien tensed at the contact and clenched his jaw as his thoughts were interrupted by the curly haired man.