Damien took another slow sip of his bourbon, the ice clinking gently against the crystal. The deal with the Russians was going south, and hence he forced himself to focus. Just this evening. Away from Emma. All business. The room was silent— until Enzo burst through the door, breathless.
“What’s going on?” Davis asked, already straightening in his seat.
Enzo’s voice was tight. He huffed as he spoke, "boss… we picked up something. A local gang kidnapped two women. Ransom job.”
Davis frowned. “So?”
Enzo hesitated. His eyes darted to Damien, who hadn’t moved.
“It was Oliver Jones’s mistress… and,” Enzo said quietly, eyes flickered between Damien and Davis.
Damien didn’t flinch.
Not yet.
Enzo swallowed hard. He’d seen it—how Damien watched over Emma, always from the shadows. Protective
