Across the city, Damien stared at the security footage— the same scene he watched first hand— his Bella, barefoot and bleeding, collapsing into William’s arms. It played on repeat.
His hands clenched into fists, as his eyes marked every bruise on her skin.
Davis cleared his throat. “She’s safe now. With her grandfather.”
Damien didn’t respond. Instead he made his way to the basement.
The basement reeked of copper and bleach, the concrete walls stained with decades of sins no one dared speak of. The single bulb overhead flickered, casting jagged shadows across the bound man’s swollen face.
Bruno.
Damien watched with clinical detachment as Bruno's left kneecap shattered under the steel pipe. The man's howls echoed off the concrete, a symphony of suffering conducted by Damien's b
