Damien's POV
I slammed my briefcase onto the couch with enough force that the sound cracked through the apartment like a gunshot. The expensive leather hit the cushions and bounced slightly before settling, and I felt a savage satisfaction in the violence of it. It was childish. Pointless. But it was the only control I had left.
Vanessa didn't even flinch. She sat at the vanity in our bedroom, Aria's bedroom, technically, since everything in this apartment now belonged to my ex-wife, carefully applying some cream to her face with slow, deliberate strokes. Her movements were methodical and precise, as if she were performing surgery rather than a beauty routine.
"What was that madness you displayed at the office today?" I demanded, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. The rage th
