Damien’s POV
"What exactly do you want me to say?" I bring the glass to my lips, but before I can drink, Vanessa crosses the room in three angry strides and snatches the bottle from my hand.
"I want you to stop drowning yourself in self-pity and figure out how we're going to fix this!" Her voice rises to something close to a shriek. Whisky sloshes in the bottle as she waves it like a weapon. "You're supposed to be brilliant, Damien. A business genius. Your father's son. But instead, you're standing here acting incompetent, like some fool who couldn't read a simple contract!"
The words sting because they're true. Because I am that fool. Because I left loose ends, and now I'm paying for it.
"There's nothing to fix." My voice comes out flat, dead. "It's over. I lost."
"No!" Vanessa slams
