Damian's POV
The Denver sky had gone the color of old satin by the time my car rolled up to the Voss estate.
Since Seattle, my schedule had been a meat grinder. Emergency board signatures. Three delayed merger calls. A strategy session bleeding into next quarter. Tonight, I was supposed to be at a debutante ball, some board member's daughter coming of age. My father, who still cast a long shadow over Voss Group whether I liked it or not, had bought my way out with a generous gift, a polished apology, and a private demand that I come home for dinner instead.
I should have been grateful. Instead, the change in plans only sharpened my mood.
Damon had warned me on the drive in. Tonight's dinner was technically a setup. Just not for me.
The target was not Catherine.
For longer than I care
