Viktor settled into the chair with the ease of a man who'd never doubted his place in any room. He didn't speak immediately. He simply looked at Damien, the way a sculptor might study marble before deciding what to carve away.
"You married my daughter," Viktor began, "because I asked you to."
Damien's hands were in his lap. They were shaking.
"Do you remember that night, Damien? Do you remember what we discussed?"
"Yes," Damien whispered.
"I don't think you do," Viktor said conversationally. "I think you've spent five years trying very hard to forget. But let me remind you."
He pulled out his phone. He didn't show them the screen, but Damien's entire body went rigid. Mia felt him tense beside her, felt the moment something inside him shattered.
"These photographs," Viktor continued,
