Damien’s POV
I was in the bar this time, nursing my fourth, fifth, maybe sixth drink. I'd lost count somewhere around the third hour of sitting on this uncomfortable stool, staring at bottles lined up behind the counter like soldiers ready for battle.
Apparently, Julian or Jully or whatever the hell Aria called him didn't want me at the hospital. Made it pretty clear with his territorial bullshit and his possessive hand on her shoulder. So I left. Walked out like the coward I was becoming, and ended up here, drowning in whiskey that tasted like regret.
My heart was boiling. Not just because of everything I'd been through in the last forty eight hours, though God knows that was enough to break any man. Not just because I'd discovered my fiancée was a fraud and my daughter wasn't mine an
