DAMIEN
The moment we stepped into the penthouse, I caught it—that strange scent lingering in the air, faint but unmistakable.
It was stale smoke, cigarettes, an undertone of sour drugs, but sharper, more unsettling. I knew it too well. It was the same scent from the warehouse, where I had gotten close enough to memorize it.
There was no mistaking it now. An assassin was here, lurking somewhere in the shadows, hidden but close.
I thought of telling Leah, but that would only traumatize her further; I was giving her the coldest shoulder more than enough times, and she’d probably just brush off any warning I gave her.
And besides, I was in no mood to politely drop the news that we might be ambushed any second.
Instead, I slipped toward the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the drawer. The w
