"There's no such thing, Jacob. What the f**k is a promised one anyway?" Damien countered, his tone flat but razor-sharp.
Jacob rolled his eyes, dragging a hand down his face like he couldn't believe he was having this conversation again.
"Besides," Damien went on, his voice cutting, "how the hell could she be promised to both of us? Explain that math to me. I still don't understand how you made it this far in life, honestly. You've got the brain of an eight-year-old. Now stop wasting my time with this bullshit. I've got phone calls to make." He pulled out his phone like the conversation was already over.
"She knows," Jacob shot back, annoyance slipping into his tone.
"Who knows what?" Damien retorted, eyes still locked on his screen.
"I told Isabella everything," Jacob said evenly. "O
