I barely slept.
Again.
Which was becoming a dangerous pattern around Damien Vale.
The penthouse remained dark except for the storm outside, rain sliding endlessly down the towering windows overlooking Ashbourne. Somewhere beneath us the Black Quarter pulsed like an open wound beneath the city’s polished skin, full of whispered rumors and dangerous men.
Pregnancy rumors.
My stomach twisted every time I thought about it.
Not because they were true.
They weren’t.
Obviously.
But because of the look on Damien’s face when Roman mentioned them.
That look had followed me all night.
Soft.
Haunted.
Hungry for something he clearly didn’t believe he deserved.
And God help me, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it either.
Which was absolutely unacceptable behavior.
I rolled over
