. . . AUTHOR’S POV Davian parked the car in an open isolated ground and pulled out his phone, dialing Vincien while Damon sat in the backseat, Sloane still asleep in his arms. Her blanket-wrapped body rested against his chest, her head tucked under his chin, her soft breathing steady despite the storm they’d just escaped. Davian’s voice was low as he spoke into the phone, “Vincien, what’s happening back there?” Vincien’s voice crackled through, sharp and tense. “He’s f*****g pissed, man. He’s raging—knows I kidnapped sloane and killed his men. He’s got men tearing the place apart looking for clues. I’m heading to New York in an hour—gotta lay low.” Davian nodded, even though Vincien couldn’t see it, his jaw tight. “Okay. See you.” He hung up, the phone clicking shut, and turn

