Damien Moreau (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
leveraged_buyout) wrote2017-01-21 03:01 am
leveraged_buyout) wrote2017-01-21 03:01 am
First Sight
Lucien Moreau wasn't in town often, and that was the way Damien liked it. The less he saw the man who sired him the better, and even when the household was full of his spies who undoubtedly reported every little detail back to the old geezer, at least Damien didn't have to see him.
But if old Moreau arrived back on an early flight and summoned for his presence, as much as Damien didn't want to, he obeyed those summons. It didn't matter that he was still abed when the butler delivered them 15 minutes ago, his father demanded to see him and Damien obeyed.
It was only down the hall and into Moreau senior's private studies, but it still felt like it was going into another world. Damien's loafers clicked loudly on the tiles as he walked down the long hall of the west wing, the original section of the mansion that he normally avoided altogether. This was the old man's wing, a part of the ancient mansion that was inherited down generations, unlike the newer east and south wings which were added only shortly before Damien was born.
Dressed up presentably in a three piece suit, hair quickly slicked back to battle the his bedhead, Damien knocked on the large study doors and waited to be admitted. He covered his yawn with a fist as he waited, mind still blanked by the early morning to ponder the reason for the meeting.
But if old Moreau arrived back on an early flight and summoned for his presence, as much as Damien didn't want to, he obeyed those summons. It didn't matter that he was still abed when the butler delivered them 15 minutes ago, his father demanded to see him and Damien obeyed.
It was only down the hall and into Moreau senior's private studies, but it still felt like it was going into another world. Damien's loafers clicked loudly on the tiles as he walked down the long hall of the west wing, the original section of the mansion that he normally avoided altogether. This was the old man's wing, a part of the ancient mansion that was inherited down generations, unlike the newer east and south wings which were added only shortly before Damien was born.
Dressed up presentably in a three piece suit, hair quickly slicked back to battle the his bedhead, Damien knocked on the large study doors and waited to be admitted. He covered his yawn with a fist as he waited, mind still blanked by the early morning to ponder the reason for the meeting.
no subject
"Gottit, boss. The gardener definitely goes." And while Damien might not be able to see his face, there is definitely a smirk in his voice. "I'll have a report for you by tonight, on who needs t'be let go an' who's stayin' on, and the remaining security upgrades we need t'finish off. Oh, and the cameras are already in your hall." Yep, definitely a smirk in his voice. He might be an ally, but he's still a redneck... and kind of an asshole.