Chapter 116: The final piece - mimic...
Rose tossed and turned fitfully in her luxurious silk sheets. Sleep continued to elude her as thoughts swirled relentlessly. She already knew they were losing the battle to exonerate Blake. Carlos's testimony being obliterated was the deathblow.
She sat up in bed, running manicured nails through her tousled hair as resignation settled in her gut. All her careful orchestrations, all the chess moves and contingencies she had put in place - it was all rapidly unraveling.
Throwing on a sheer robe, Rose padded over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. Staring out at the inky blackness, she released a slow breath, painfully accepting the loss of control she so loathed.
Already the hazy outlines of a new strategy were starting to take fuzzy shape in her cunning mind. It would require a big sacrifice on her part...but if it secured her ultimate desires in this twisted gambit, wouldn't it be worth it?
As the first milky tendrils of dawn began bleeding onto the horizon, Rose had made her decision. She knew already that the battle was lost. She could not bring herself to prepare for the court date because in her mind, she was no fool and knew there was more than likely no positives coming from that.
Except, there was one last thing she could do. One last option left for Blake. One last decision she would have to make. And she had made it already. She would pay Damien a visit to discuss revised terms before the final act played out. Her cold determination was tinged with the barest flicker of trepidation over just how far she may have to go.
The flight to Ancroft was quite the long journey and even longer as Rose had to keep up with the internet and most news station ablaze over the final sentence of a certain "crazed CEO lover" sentence to life imprisonment for attempted murder.
As the jet soared through the night sky, Rose sat in silence, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. With each passing moment, the distance between her and Ancroft seemed to stretch on endlessly, amplifying her sense of isolation.
Despite her best efforts to focus on the task at hand, Rose found herself unable to escape the relentless onslaught of news updates and social media posts. The headlines blared out the final sentence of a certain "crazed CEO lover," each word a dagger to her heart. She clenched her jaw, the knot tightening in her stomach as she forced herself to look away from the screen.
The images of Blake being escorted out of court flashed across her mind. She swallowed back the lump rising in her throat, fighting to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. She felt a pang of guilt for not being there to console him in his darkest hour.
Yet, even as the thought crossed her mind, Rose couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that her absence might be the only thing keeping Blake from further condemnation. It was a bitter realization, one that filled her with a sense of helplessness and regret.
During the entire pulsing drive toward the secluded hilltop estate of Damien, Rose's mind raced with bitter calculations and determination. She knew he was likely her last, most desperate gambit.
After exhausting every other possibility, every hidden societal leverage and veiled threat in her repertoire, Damien's influence remained the sole option still promising even the barest glimmer of reclaiming Blake's freedom.
Rose's full burgundy lips twisted in naked revulsion at the mere notion of debasing herself before that depraved egomaniac once again. Damien represented the most condescending, rapacious underbelly of their depraved underworld aristocracy - each silken word and aristocratic flourish masking a deeper wellspring of venom and nihilistic cruelty.
Yet for Blake's sake...she would endure having to prostrate her pride and autonomy before Damien if that's what was ultimately required to extricate him.
By the time her car had threaded through the winding cliffside roads to the imposing wrought-iron gates, Rose's delicate features had been rendered into an exquisite porcelain mask of cold determination. Coiled tighter than a cobra's deadly recoil, the raven-tressed beauty exited and strode up the driveway flanked by with slow, predatory grace.
The moment she materialized in Damien's wood-paneled study, Rose felt his burning scarlet stare raking her taut frame with undisguised carnal relish. She was unable to fully suppress her instinctive shudder of revulsion.
"To what do I owe the unexpected rapture of your presence gracing my cloistered halls this evening, my wild nightingale?" Damien purred in that disarmingly decadent lilt while rising from his wing-backed leather chair.
Rose lifted one razor-sculpted brow, emerald eyes blazing with undisguised loathing as she met his lurid gaze. "Cut the pleasantries, Damien. We both know precisely why I've come before you in such inglorious supplication once again."
Her luscious lips twisted in obvious disgust as he began slinking toward her in that unhurried predatory gait.
"After exhausting every other contingency, you remain my sole potential avenue for extricating Blake from his wrongful imprisonment."
In the span of a solitary inhalation, Damien had crossed the remaining space separating them to seize her trim waist with bruising possession. Rose's entire lithe musculature went rigid, body coiling like an enraged cobra's as he yanked her flush against his granite contours.
"Ahh yes...the miserable hound's defamation," Damien sneered, carding merciless fingers through her raven tresses until she hissed through gritted teeth. "So now the time has finally arrived for my unruly fallen seraphim to come groveling from the fires, desperate for any forlorn clemency I might indulge from my...tender mercies."
If his fingertips brushed any lower along the insistent flare of her hips, Rose knew she wouldn't be able to restrain herself from spitting in his smug features and earning some well-deserved retaliation. Instead she forced her own emerald glare upwards to pierce the ancient immortal's with seething hatred.
"You miserable sadistic bastard," she snarled in clipped tones, ignoring how his lips curled in profane amusement. "I agreed to this debasement solely for the sake of my one true beloved's welfare..." Rose stared with daring eyes. No longer was it necessary to hide what was already known. Blake was whom she loved and if Damien had a problem with it, well, it was his problem.
Damien hearing Rose pronounce Blake as her "beloved" felt a nuclear reaction start in his stomach. He shielded his mouth from vomiting fire. Always, being royalty and considering himself far above everyone else, he had to keep his emotions in check, at all times.
..."So either swallow the last tattered shreds of your waning ego and assist me in his extrication...or forever be denied experiencing the raptures of my form in any capacity again," Rose said.
For a stretch of viscous eternity, their twin immortal presences seemed to buffet against one another in a raw clash of wills and imperious power. Damien's chiseled beauty twisted into an indecipherable sneer, ignorant if her words betrayed promise or empty threat in that moment of impasse.
Yet there could be no equivocation lingering in the pristine hollows of Rose's cheekbones, in the imperious set of her jaw or the smoldering fury suffusing those ageless emerald depths. If required, she would endure any degradation or obscenity in service of earning Blake's redemption...regardless of the sacred feminine power it cost to shred from her very essence.
With a leonine growl of resignation, Damien conceded their simmering clash. His taloned fingertips traced indolent patterns along the taut cording of her jugular as if committing every nuance of musculature to memory.
"Very well then, my rebellious queen, you have bartered your stunning fealty before me once more in exchange for our celebration's most elusive desire...the hound's deliverance from certain ruination."
"Hold, Damien. Before we proceed, I must know how you intend to fulfill your end of the bargain." Rose's voice sliced through the charged atmosphere like a sharpened blade.
Damien emitted an exasperated sigh, his impatience palpable as he called out to Mimic, his loyal aide. "Mimic, come forth."
Mimic materialized by Damien's side with eerie swiftness, her gaze pierced through Rose like a dagger, filled with suspicion and accusation, as if Rose had stolen her puppy.
Rose however proceeded to not even give her the time of the day, completely focused on the main subject at hand.
"Speak, Damien. How do you plan to deliver Blake's freedom?" Rose demanded, her voice unwavering despite the tension thickening the air.
Damien's smile widened as he turned to Rose. "Do you know why my right hand is called Mimic?" His tone was almost playful, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
Rose met his gaze evenly, knowing full well the extent of Mimic's abilities. "Yes, I'm well aware," she replied calmly.
Damien's smile only grew. "Remarkable, isn't it? Mimic possesses the extraordinary ability to copy, to transform into any organic sentient being she lays her eyes on." He paused, savoring the moment before continuing. "But her powers go even deeper. She can mimic her target down to the subatomic level, becoming an absolute exact copy of them. DNA, fingerprints, you imagine it and it is reality!"
As Damien spoke, Mimic remained stoic, her expression unreadable as she stood by his side.
Rose however could barely hold herself from straight up ripping mimic's throat. This was the very person that lit the flame that has now turned her world into a living hell. But for the sake of Blake, she had to keep her composure. Damien was onto something and she would see it to the finish.
"You give the word, and I give you my word," Damien continued, his voice carrying a note of confidence. "She will be there, and she will make things right."
Rose's gaze held a hint of steel as she responded, her words carrying weight. "He is being transferred to the state correctional facility in three days."
"Very well then," Damien replied smoothly, turning to face Mimic. He cupped her pale face in his hands, staring into her eyes. Mimic reciprocated the look. In her eyes were admiration, loyalty and absolute, untainted love for her master.
Damien himself could see it which was why when he began, there was no iota of doubt in his mind that his words wouldn't be done.
"My sweet Mimic. You have served me diligently for centuries. Now is the time to prove your actual worth to me, your lord. What do you say?"
All of a sudden, realization dawned on Mimic, her expression shifted from confusion to absolute terror.
With a twisted grin, Damien replied, "We will get him out. The same way we got him in."