~Bianca's POV~
Damien carried me as if I were weightless, slung over his shoulder while I beat at his back with my fists. The strikes landed uselessly against impenetrable muscle. He didn't even flinch.
A heavy mahogany door squeaked open under his free hand as the scent of leather, ink, and old paper harsh enough to sting my nose, rushed out.
I caught only flashes upside-down: the twinkle of polished floors, the bottom shelves lined with books, and the edge of a massive desk. Then he dropped me onto a black leather couch. My breath rushed out in a harsh gasp as I caught myself, palms stinging once more.
Only then did I take it in properly: the wide room, walls lined neatly with books and files, the sleekness of a desk standing at its centre like a throne. A floor-to-ceiling window was
