CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE:BREAKING POINT
The Locke mansion loomed ahead like a cold monument of power and pride. Damien hadn’t stepped foot into its marble halls in months—not since the last family dinner with the explosive argument that ended with slamming doors and silence that lingered for days. But this time was different. This time, he had called the meeting. Gerard Locke didn’t summon unless he had something to say, and Damien knew better than to expect a warm welcome. The butler barely made eye contact as he led Damien through the house. Nothing had changed. The same cold paintings, the same echo of his footsteps against polished floors. The study doors were open. Gerard sat behind his massive desk, a glass of scotch in hand, eyes like steel when they locked onto his son. “Close the door.” Damien did. Slowly. His fat
- Writer
