Damien leaned back in the leather chair, one hand wrapped around a crystal glass of whiskey, the other tapping a lazy rhythm against the polished desk. The glow from the monitors bathed the room in pale light, news anchors shouting headlines on mute, security feeds looping grainy footage, Valeria’s face splashed across every channel.
His lips curved into a slow smile. Chaos was such a beautiful thing.
The door creaked open. Footsteps clicked against the marble floor, measured but tense. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“You’re late,” Damien said softly, still watching the screens.
Elena stepped inside. Her posture was stiff, her expression sharper than usual. She shut the door with deliberate care, then crossed the room. But she didn’t sit.
“I had to stand beside her at t
