Damien
I left Lena in my bed and went to meet the man who wanted her afraid.
That was his first mistake.
His second was thinking I could still be reasoned with.
The elevator descended through the tower in silence, carrying me down from Elysian Heights into the bones of Ashbourne. Above, my penthouse held warmth I had no right to touch. Below, the city waited with its teeth bared.
Roman stood beside me, quiet for once.
That meant he was worried.
Good.
Worry kept men sharp.
“You’re too calm,” he said.
I adjusted the cuff of my sleeve. “Am I?”
“You get quiet before you do something stupid.”
I looked at him.
Roman corrected himself immediately. “Strategic. Violent. Legally unhelpful.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
But then Lena’s face moved through my mind.
Bare legs in my shirt.
