Damon's POV
Maya stood rigid by the bedroom doorway, arms folded across her chest, her expression hard as granite. Her eyes were fixed on Sasha, deliberately avoiding me. My instinct was to go to her, explain everything, but Damian's hand clasped my shoulder, holding me in place.
"I'm curious if criminals in custody get treated with such gentleness," Maya remarked, her gaze shifting briefly to Aurora. Her voice was ice-cold, her stare severe. Yet still, she wouldn't look at me.
Scarlett stepped forward, her voice dripping with disdain. "I think, Maya, that detectives should learn better ways to deal with home-wreckers."
"What the hell is going on, Damon? Who are these people?" Sasha demanded, standing defiantly in the middle of the room wearing nothing but her underwear.
Chloe advanced toward Sasha, eyes blazing. "This, you tramp, is what happens when you strip down and throw yourself at someone else's man. This isn't your personal brothel."
