Rachel POV
I woke to Leo’s excited squealing from outside the door.
"PAPA! PAPA! IS TODAY THE DAY?!"
I sat up, my body stiff from sleeping in the chair beside Leo’s bed. The memory of last night washed over me —the blood, the weight of Damien’s head on my shoulder, the look in his eyes as he checked that his son was still breathing.
I hurried into the hall, and the stairs still in my pyjamas, and paused in the doorway of the breakfast room.
Damien sat at the head of the table, a cup of black coffee between his hands. He looked exhausted. His face was pale, with a fresh white bandage stark against his temple. He wore a simple black shirt—soft-looking and not his usual stiff suits—but even from here, I could see the careful way he held himself, with the tension in his shoulders that hin
