**Chapter 17: Damien’s First Regret**
The letter came at dusk.
Plain white envelope, no return address, delivered by a terrified courier who practically threw it at Jax and ran.
Victor slit it open with a claw.
Inside was a single photograph: Damien in a prison jumpsuit, face gaunt, eyes sunken. A handwritten note on the back in shaky script.
I dream about the sound the truck made when it hit the guardrail.
I dream about your scream.
Every night.
I’m sorry, Elena.
I never deserved you.
Victor’s lip curled. He was about to crumple it when I took it from his fingers.
I stared at Damien’s broken face until something cold and final settled in my chest.
“He’s too late,” I said quietly.
Victor watched me, waiting.
I dropped the photo into the fireplace and watched the flame
