Damien didn’t even glance at the screen. He grabbed it in one swift motion, already knowing who it was.
“Talk,” he said, his voice like gravel over ice.
James’s voice was tense but controlled. “We found a property registered under Beckett—hidden, undeclared, off the grid. It’s a lake house outside the city. We’re moving in.”
“Send me the address. Now,” Damien ordered, his voice a blade slicing through the quiet.
The moment the call ended, he was already shrugging into his coat. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, gilding the hard wood floors and casting long, sterile shadows — but nothing about the morning felt bright.
His jaw was tight. His stride, unforgiving.
The warmth of the late morning air didn’t touch him as he stepped outside.
Only the fury d
