Damian's POV
The elevator doors closed behind me with a hiss that sounded too much like disapproval.
The kind of hiss that reminded you even the walls in this place had opinions. Even the air knew I was unraveling.
My penthouse stretched out before me, slick and sterile. Silent. Too silent. The kind of silence I used to crave, curated, intentional, uninterrupted.
But tonight, it didn’t feel like peace.
It felt like judgment.
Like the quiet had teeth.
I shrugged off my coat and let it fall across the back of a leather chair, the soft thud echoing louder than it should have. My fingers went to my cuffs next, loosening them like I was peeling off a skin that didn’t fit right anymore.
The skyline stared back at me through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Gleaming. Endless. Slick with ambiti
