Damon sat in the darkness of his office, the only light coming from the pale glow of his computer monitor and the distant cityscape filtering through the half-closed blinds.
It was late. Later than he had meant to stay.
The cleanup from the twin rifts was still ongoing, the paperwork was multiplying faster than he could sign it, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he was still processing the footage of Arzhen Vasiliev's rampage in the middle of the street. Not to mention the move that billionaire bastard just made—
BUZZ—
His phone buzzed.
{Ivy: Why do you want my DNA? Spit it out.}
Damon stared at the screen. His thumb hovered over the message, then he closed his eyes and grimaced.
He got found out.
He tapped the call button and brought the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. Then nothing. The call disconnected.
He pulled the phone away, frowned at the screen, and tapped again. This time, as he raised it to his ear—
BAM!
