Darius's POV
Two days without a single hour of sleep, and it feels like my body is collapsing in on itself. My mind won't let me rest, replaying the moment I sent Allison straight into the lion's den because I listened to logic over instinct. Now, the harsh truth gnaws at me—I've been a complete fool. What was I even thinking these past few weeks? Every time I try to trace my steps, to understand how I got here, my brain spins in confusion, as if these choices weren't mine to begin with.
Zain's voice cuts through the haze, a sharp reminder of the mess I've created.
"What's the plan? He knows you're involved in the hit. And have you heard anything from that Grenade woman?"
His words grind against my skull, worsening the relentless migraine pounding behind my eyes. The fluorescent light in my office feels like it's digging into my brain, fifty tiny neurosurgeons working on me without anesthesia. I clench my jaw, praying Zain would just stop talking for a second.
