DAMIEN'S POV
Damien sat behind his desk with his eyes closed, his head resting against the high-backed leather chair. Exhaustion pulled at him like a physical weight, but sleep was impossible.
He hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours. Hadn't eaten since yesterday's breakfast. Hadn't done anything except work and think and torture himself with the image of Aria's face in that warehouse.
The fear. The horror. The way she'd looked at him like he was a monster.
And maybe he was. Maybe that's exactly what he was....a monster who'd fooled himself into believing he could have something pure and good like Aria.
Julian had come by this morning, concerned about his mood. The entire office was walking on eggshells, terrified of setting him off. He'd nearly fired his VP of Operations for a minor mistake in a report....something he would have normally corrected with a curt email.
But nothing felt normal. Nothing felt right.
