Damon's POV
The room reeked of cheap whiskey and cheaper desperation.
Thomas's nostrils flared, a vein jumping at his temple as he jabbed a finger in my direction. "Don't you dare judge me from inside your marble palace. People like you have no idea what it feels like to be cornered."
I let the silence stretch a beat longer than was comfortable. It was a trick I'd picked up in courtrooms. Men like Thomas couldn't stand quiet. They filled it with their own rope.
Damian beat me to it.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't shift the line of his shoulders. He simply stopped throttling his Alpha dominance, and the room buckled under the weight of it. Thomas's knees softened. Rebecca made a small, ugly sound at the back of her throat.
"Desperation makes a man steal," Damian said, each sylla
