Damon's POV
"You shouldn't be here, Damon."
The gravel crunched under my feet as I stepped deeper onto Marcus Westin's private estate—an isolated fortress in the Adirondacks guarded by silence and ghosts.
I didn't flinch at his voice, though it echoed with cold familiarity from the shadows of the wraparound porch.
His cane tapped once against the oak floorboards as he stepped into view, silver hair catching the moonlight, eyes hollow like the man I barely recognized anymore.
"And yet here I am," I said, jaw clenched, fists trembling with restrained fury. "Because I found your damn blood lab buried beneath your empire of lies.
Because someone used my fiancée's sister like she was expendable. Because Lucian exists—and he's tearing everything apart. So don't dodge this, Father. I need the truth. All of it. Now."
Marcus sighed, his expression unreadable. "You won't like the answers."
"Try me."
