AT KNIGHT MANSION
“WHAT. THE. f**k. HAPPENED?” Ryan’s voice sliced through the thick, suffocating tension of the Knight mansion.
Damon didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
It was his driver and assistant who had dragged him home, battered and half-conscious, after finding him slumped outside the gates of Parker Group. They had laid him on the massive leather couch, unsure whether he was alive or dead, waiting desperately for Ryan to return.
When Ryan saw him, his blood turned to ice. Damon looked like he’d walked through hell — bruises, blood, torn knuckles, eyes glazed with a fury so deep it didn’t seem human anymore.
“We should go to the hospital,” Ryan muttered, reaching out.
Damon jerked his body away, growling under his breath like a wounded animal. He grabbed the jug of water, drank ha
