Damien’s POV
The air hit me like a slap as I stepped out of the station, the fluorescent buzz of the interrogation room still ringing in my head. Olivia was beside me, her stride sharp, her phone pressed against her ear as she rattled off orders to someone on the other end.
Gerard trailed behind, muttering about motions and injunctions, his gravelly tone carrying a kind of lethal calm I’d grown to admire.
Me? I was vibrating with an energy that refused to settle. Rage wasn’t even the right word anymore…it was venom, pumping through my veins, begging for release. I wanted Mark on his knees, begging the way Ellie must’ve begged him to stop. I wanted him destroyed, not with fists, but with something permanent, undeniable, irrefutable.
“Damien.” Olivia’s hand cut across my chest, stopping
