Damian's POV
Rain fell in relentless sheets, drumming against the armored windows of Damian's private office.
The city below was a blur of silver and shadows just like his thoughts.
He stood before the long oak desk, stripping his gun with precise, practiced movements.
Every click of metal echoed like a vow.
Luca paced nearby, jaw tight.
"You realize this could be a setup. If you walk into that meeting alone, you might not walk out."
Damian didn't look up.
"That's the point."
"Don't do this, boss."
"I have to," Damian replied, sliding the magazine back into place.
"She's out there, Luca. Every minute I waste arguing could be her last."
Luca stopped pacing, frustration cutting through his voice.
"You've got fifty trained men ready to move at your signal. Let us come with you."
Damian finally met his gaze, eyes like storm clouds.
"And what happens if they see backup?
They kill her before I take another step."
Luca's fists clenched.
