Damon's POV
"Impossible," I whispered into the empty penthouse, the word tasting like ash.
My reflection in the black glass window stared back at me, hollow-eyed, broken. The city glittered below—neon veins crawling through the night—but it felt miles away, unreachable. My world wasn't out there. My world had just been ripped out from under me.
"How can she be Marcus's daughter?" I said aloud, my voice cracking, raw. "How can Aria… be my sister?"
The word cut my throat like a blade. Sister.
I slammed my glass down on the marble counter, amber whiskey splattering across the surface. My hands shook.
"No. No, this is wrong."
I pressed my palms against the counter, leaning forward, breathing hard. My mind raced back to Marcus's smug toast at dinner. To the daughter I almost lost, and the empire she's about to inherit.
He'd known exactly what he was doing, detonating that revelation in front of everyone. Every board member. Every investor. Every vulture waiting to feed.
