Damien’s POV
Christiano came into my office without knocking. I didn’t even look up at first. I was sitting behind the desk with a half-finished glass of whiskey, trying to read the same line on the same paper for the tenth time. My head wasn’t in it. My hands weren’t steady either. I already knew what he came for, and I didn’t want to hear it.
Then he stopped in front of me, shoulders stiff, jaw set like a man about to say something he’d regret. I kept my eyes on the paper, but he didn’t care.
“You’re losing control,” he said.
I froze for a second, the words landing harder than I wanted to admit. Then I leaned back in my chair and looked at him. “You sure you want to start this conversation?”
He didn’t blink. “Someone has to.”
I didn’t answer. I just took another sip. The whiskey bu
