Damien’s POV
I didn’t even hear the damn door.
One second I was staring at the screen, at the little square box showing her on the penthouse cam bare feet padding across my marble floor, hair falling like a veil down her back, stopping to stretch like a cat in front of the balcony glass. And the next
“Boss.”
Christiano’s voice snapped me back. I jerked, blinked at him standing there by the door. I hadn’t even registered it opening. f**k. That wasn’t me. I don’t miss s**t like that.
“Are we doing this or are you gonna keep daydreaming?” he asked, calm, too calm, the way he gets when he knows he’s poking a bruise.
I set the glass down. Didn’t realize I’d been holding it so tight my palm was wet with condensation. My jaw locked.
“Sit,” I muttered.
He dropped into the chair opposite m
