The sky darkened as evening approached. On the top floor of Arman Group’s headquarters, Damian stood with his back to his desk, gazing out at the city through the floor-to-ceiling window. Light rain blurred the view of the skyscrapers beyond.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the table. The screen lit up with a message from an anonymous sender:
“She’s at the hospital. With the boy.”
Damian’s face instantly turned cold. His jaw tightened, and the hand holding his phone curled into a fist.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. Grabbing his coat, he pressed the intercom button.
“Postpone all my meetings tonight. I’m leaving.”
“Yes, Mr. Damian,” his assistant responded.
He stormed out of his office, his footsteps echoing through the hallway. Staff lowered their heads as he passed, none
