That Was a Slap in the Face

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The guards lay scattered across the stairs like charred bodies.

Burn marks scarred the walls and steps.

Heat drifted through the air, carrying an acrid smell of scorched flesh and smoke.

Helena seemed to forget her pain.

She watched Damon walk down the stairs in a daze.

Dodging bullets had already been shocking enough.

But that.

She no longer knew how to describe what she had seen.

Could a human being do something like that?

Chaotic gunfire came from downstairs.

Screams and shouts followed one after another.

Then silence.

The guards in the house were probably all dead.

Those men worked for her father, and most of their hands were stained with blood. Their deaths might have been deserved.

Still, Helena regretted it.

Not the decision to betray and sacrifice Damon. That decision made her sad and hurt, but if it could achieve her purpose, she could sacrifice even herself. To Damon, she could only say she was sorry.

What she regretted was not realizing Damon had this kind of power.

Now, her goal was probably impossible.

She did not think Damon would spare her.

Even if he did, he would not keep her secret for her.

Step. Step. Step.

Footsteps rose from the stairwell.

Damon walked back up with a relaxed expression, grabbed Helena by the hair, and dragged her downstairs.

Helena, stripped of conviction, was dragged like dead weight.

He pulled her all the way out near the villa's front fountain before letting go.

"Regret it?" Damon crouched and asked with interest.

Did she regret it?

She thought of her mother, beaten by her father day after day until she died.

She thought of the faces of all those families her father had ruined.

Her scattered gaze slowly focused.

Helena said firmly, "I only regret that I failed to make him pay. I know I wronged you, so... do it."

Helena closed her eyes.

Damon did not speak.

He did not move either.

After a long while, Helena opened her eyes in surprise.

"Why? Why are you not doing it?"

"I am not going to kill you."

Damon chuckled.

"Not kill me?"

Helena froze, then hope rose in her.

"You forgive me?"

Damon thought for a moment, then sat down directly on Helena's body. Watching her suffer and struggle to breathe, he smiled.

"I told you. Whatever you care about will torture you, and expectation is the root of all suffering. I did not expect sleeping with you twice to become more important in your heart than the thing you have been clinging to, even if I am the only man you have ever slept with. So I do not mind, and I am not angry that you tried to trap me to protect your secret. If I were you, I would have done the same."

"People are selfish. Even the ones who look like they sacrifice everything are usually just satisfying their own emotional or spiritual needs."

"But not being angry and not minding does not mean I forgive you."

Damon's smile turned brilliant, and Helena felt an uneasy chill.

"Death would be release for you. Succeed or fail, you would no longer have to care. So I will not kill you, and I will not expose you. I want you to wander back and forth between hope and despair, unable even to beg properly for death."

Helena felt as if she had fallen into ice.

Damon's gentle, brilliant smile looked more terrifying than any devil.

This was what it meant to kill the heart before the body.

Suddenly, the iron gate in the villa wall slowly opened.

A luxury car that had been about to drive in stopped abruptly.

The scene inside the villa grounds had caught them completely off guard.

Helena's father, Frank, was in the car.

As the head of a crime family, Frank had seen plenty of violent scenes. He was shocked, but he calmed quickly.

Looking at the strange man sitting on his daughter and the guards scattered across the courtyard as if struck by lightning, Frank got out with a dark expression.

His bodyguard and driver drew guns and protected him from both sides.

"Do you know who I am?" Frank asked after a moment, staring at Damon.

"Frank Bertinelli. Head of a Starling City crime family."

As Damon spoke, he looked Frank over.

Not bad.

He had expected Frank to jump out in rage and order gunfire, or turn the car around and flee in fear. Instead, the man had some presence.

"Do we have a grudge?" Frank asked darkly.

Damon shook his head.

"Were you hired to trouble me?"

Frank asked again.

Damon shook his head again.

Frank laughed from anger.

"Good. I promise you will not die easily."

He tilted his head slightly.

The bodyguard and driver immediately raised their guns and moved toward Damon.

Damon cooperated, standing with both hands raised.

Just as the bodyguard and driver each reached for one of his shoulders, electricity roared out.

Thud. Thud.

Both men collapsed on the spot.

Frank narrowed his eyes and backed away in shock.

Then he heard Damon say with a smile, "I want your daughter."

"What... what does that mean?"

Frank forced himself to stay calm.

"Exactly what it sounds like."

Damon's smile stayed mild.

Frank drew a deep breath. The fear in his eyes shifted into excitement.

"What can you give me?"

"Until I lose interest in her, I keep you alive."

"Deal."

Even though Damon had only promised to keep him alive and had not said he would work for him, Frank agreed without hesitation.

What was sacrificing a disobedient daughter in exchange for protection from someone with such strange power?

Besides, if he refused, who knew what would happen?

Frank had only taken a few smiling steps toward Damon when a gunshot suddenly rang out from far away.

Bang.

The bullet struck Frank.

Frank dropped.

Damon narrowed his eyes.

"Now that is someone trying to slap me in the face."

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