He hadn't stopped watching since they'd stepped onto the floor. He saw everything, everything...
The way Stan's hands held her waist. The way Sophie pressed into him without reservation. The way they moved together, slowly, perfectly, like two people who had discovered a frequency only they could hear.
And now this. The almost-kiss. Foreheads touching. Lips a breath apart. His hand on her face. Her fingers in his hair.
Something inside Damien's chest twisted hard, ugly, venomous.
He grabbed another shot. Threw it back without tasting it. Reached for the next one immediately. And the next. And the next. Each glass hit the table with a sharp clack before he snatched the following one, drinking with the frantic, mechanical rhythm of a man trying to drown something that refused to stay submerged.
