Damien
The message sat on my phone like a loaded weapon.
Pretty view from Elysian Heights.
No signature.
No threat.
None needed.
My blood went cold anyway.
Across from me, Lena watched my face carefully from the couch, fear beginning to sharpen beneath her expression.
“What kind of message,” she repeated quietly.
I stared at the screen for one more second before locking the phone.
“Damien.”
I crossed the penthouse slowly toward the windows overlooking Ashbourne. Rain hammered against the glass while the city sprawled beneath storm clouds, glowing silver and gold in the dark.
Somewhere out there, Matteo Salvatore had eyes on my tower.
On Lena.
The thought triggered something violent deep in my chest instantly.
“He’s watching the building,” I said flatly.
Silence.
Then:
“Wh
