Damian’s convoy carved a brutal path through the night, engines rumbling like caged thunder. The storm above churned restlessly, sheets of rain slashing the windshields as if the sky itself sensed what was coming. Inside the lead SUV, Damian sat like stone, silent, rigid, dark fury simmering under his skin.
His thumb kept brushing over the cold metal of the gun on his thigh. It wasn’t nerves. It was the kind of stillness that came before a hurricane, the silence of a man who’d already decided death wasn’t enough punishment for the person who took what he loved.
“Boss,” Luca said from the passenger seat, voice taut. “We’re five minutes out. Perimeter guards will be heavy. Isabella’s expecting you.”
“Good.” Damian’s voice was gravel and fire. His eyes were fixed on the estate ahead, glowi
