Damien sat on the edge of his bed, still dressed in black slacks and the shirt he hadn't bothered to unbutton since he got home. The night stretched quietly around him, the city humming just beyond his windows. He hadn't turned on the lights. He didn't need them.
His mind was elsewhere.
Chloe's voice had echoed in his head the entire ride home. "Put it on speaker."
The way she'd looked at him—uncertain, cautious. Like she wasn't sure who she was standing in front of.
It shouldn't have bothered him. But it did.
She was right to question him. He wasn't being honest with her. Not fully. But the fact that she noticed, meant he slipped. And Damien never slipped.
He leaned back, exhaling, his fingers dragging through his hair.
Then there was Ryan, he had told Ethan to let him go. He wasn't scared of the consequences of Ryan's escape. Because there was none.
Ryan wasn't going to say anything, he didn't dare. Because if he did, he knew it would only get worse for him.
