Damian’s mind raced as he watched Jackson walk away, the echoes of their conversation lingering in the stillness of the room. His mood was dark, his emotions as unreadable as the still waters of a deep lake hiding unseen currents beneath.
His thoughts drifted back to Asher, now a shattered shell, abandoned in a cold underground cell, barely holding on to life. His rage remained unabated, simmering just below the surface, ready to boil over once more. Asher’s confession had done little to quell the fury eating away at him. The truth of whether anything had truly happened to Elara didn’t matter – Asher had crossed a line by laying a hand on her and even entertaining the idea of causing her harm.
And then there was Charles. The man who had orchestrated the whole thing. He clenched his jaw,
