Sweet Revenge With My Billionaire Vampire-Chapter 84: Petrov’s Home

Now that the boy could properly see him, his eyes went wide as he recognized who he was. He quickly bowed his head as much as he could in his position.

"I-I’m so sorry, my lord," he stammered, his lips quivering as if he were about to cry.

Damien didn’t care for his apologies. He just wanted to see the old vampire, Petrov, and leave this annoyingly bright place he calls home.

"Where is Petrov?"

The boy shakily raised a hand and pointed toward a door down the hallway. "H-He’s in there."

Damien slowly dropped him back onto the floor, and to the boy’s surprise, he reached down and patted his head before turning away.

The boy stood frozen in place, staring after Damien as he made his way down the hallway.

—

He reached the door and didn’t bother knocking, pushing it open.

Inside, Councilor Petrov sat comfortably in an armchair, a thick book in hand, his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

In the center of the room stood Argilia, poised and elegant as always. She was dressed in a long black gown that fanned out around her feet, her hair swept up into an intricate bun. If perfection were a person, then it would be her.

Before her stood a young man, Petrov’s son and only child, Lucas Alberich.

The boy stood stiffly, his arms spread wide as Argilia adjusted his posture. With a soft slap to his hip, she corrected his stance, then gently placed a hand under his chin, tilting his head up just slightly.

"A ruler must always hold his head high. Confidence and power must radiate from you at all times."

Petrov, finally noticing his presence, quickly set his book down, rising from his chair and approaching him. Normally, he absolutely hated when someone barged into his home unannounced, but this was no ordinary vampire. It was Damien, their ruler.

He offered a polite smile and bowed his head. "My Lord Damien," he greeted. "I must admit, I was not expecting you. I hope all is well."

Damien’s cape shifted as he lifted his hand, clapping it onto the old man’s shoulder. "I’m here to speak to you about the countless—" He trailed off mid-sentence, his gaze darting past Petrov’s shoulder.

With a slight furrow in his brow, he brushed past the councilor and walked towards Argilia and Lucas.

Argilia, still focused on adjusting the young man’s stance, didn’t acknowledge his approach. She gently tapped Lucas’s side again, ensuring his posture remained correct.

Damien stopped beside her, his cold gaze locking onto Lucas. The moment Lucas met his eyes, it felt as though an invisible weight crashed down upon him. A suffocating, overwhelming force pressed against his entire body, threatening to crush him into the ground.

His knees nearly buckled. He hadn’t even noticed Damien enter the room—he had been too preoccupied trying to follow Argilia’s demanding instructions.

His head instantly fell in submission, his voice strained as he greeted, "H-Hello, Lord Damien."

Damien grimaced. He didn’t bother to acknowledge the boy’s words. Instead, he turned his head toward Argilia. "What is the meaning of this?"

Argilia, staring straight ahead at the wall before them, remained utterly composed. She took a slow breath before speaking. "The council has already informed you of our decision before."

"If Enzo does not return by the time you step down, Lucas here will take his place. He will be the next ruler. I am simply preparing him... just in case."

Damien’s frown deepened, his fangs elongating as he turned fully to face Argilia. He grabbed her shoulder—firmly, yet not enough to cause harm—and turned her toward him. His dark eyes bore into hers, his tone laced with irritation.

"Are you doing this just to piss me off? Just like Nolan?"

Lucas, who had been standing awkwardly in front of them, forced out a nervous chuckle, his gaze flickering between the two vampires.

Slowly, he began edging away, inch by inch. And the second he thought they weren’t paying attention, he bolted, disappearing across the room in a blur of movement. Neither Damien nor Argilia acknowledged his escape. Their focus remained locked on each other.

Argilia let out a sigh, unbothered by Damien’s aggression. Instead of pulling away, she lifted her hand, letting her fingers trail up to rest gently on his cheek.

Damien was caught off guard by the sudden, uncharacteristic gesture. His eyes flickered with suspicion, but he did nothing to stop her. He simply stood there, waiting for an explanation.

"I would never do such a thing," she said, brushing her thumb over his skin. "I’m simply thinking about the future. That’s all."

She leaned in closer, her breath ghosting against his ear as she dropped her voice to a whisper. "Do you think I like the idea of Lucas ruling us? But compared to the others I’ve seen, he’s the closest thing to decent."

"You are the most powerful vampire in our world, Lord Damien. You are the kind of ruler we deserve. And your son, Enzo, is nearly just as powerful as you."

She paused, then gestured subtly toward Lucas, who was now standing near his father. "If Enzo agrees to return and takes his rightful place on the throne, we will forget about all of this."

A small smirk curled at the edge of her lips as her hand slid from his cheek, trailing down his chest. She pushed the heavy fabric of his cape aside, resting her palm over one of his broad, muscular pecs.

"In fact, I can help you bring him back... when you’re ready."

Damien’s eyes narrowed. Argilia, offering to help him? It was suspicious. She was not the type to offer aid unless there was something in it for her. He knew better than to trust her so easily. But he was desperate. He was not about to let some child take the throne when his own son was meant to have it.

Slowly, he nodded. "I’ve already given Enzo three months to return," he said. "The least I can do as a ’good father’ is wait until that time runs out. If he doesn’t return after that... then we can proceed with whatever you have in mind."

Argilia chuckled. "Alright then." She patted his chest lightly, then walked past him, leaving the conversation at that.