He gathered her into his arms, slow and reverent, cradling her against his chest. Her head fell beneath his chin. Her body felt like ice.
Behind him, Beckett roared.
“She’s mine! You can’t take her! YOU DON’T DESERVE HER!”
Ashcroft took a step toward him — but Damien turned.
Just one look.
One venom-laced glance.
“He’s mine.”
Ashcroft’s man, about to land another blow, froze mid-swing—his fist suspended inches from Beckett’s ruined face.
“Throw him in the trunk. I need him alive and conscious and able to feel every… single.. thing.” Damien’s voice was pure frost. The room stilled.
Ashcroft exhaled sharply. “Tsk. You just made the biggest mistake of your life, boy.”
He turned to his men. “You heard him. Load up the trash.”
Two of them hauled Beckett up—one slammed a fist into the
