Elena's POV
"Route 9," I repeated once we'd made it out of the ballroom and into the relative privacy of the hotel corridor, my voice shaking despite my best effort to keep it steady. "He knows. He actually knows."
"We don't know exactly what he knows." Damian's jaw was tight, his hand still firm at my back as he guided me toward a quieter alcove near the elevators, away from the lingering guests still filtering in and out of the ballroom. "It could be a guess. A calculated jab meant to rattle you."
"It worked, if that's what it was." I pressed a hand against my chest, trying to steady my breathing, the adrenaline of the evening curdling into something closer to nausea now that we'd stepped away from the crowd. "Damian, he's known this whole time. About my father. About everything."
"M
