Damien’s POV
The door clicked shut behind James, sealing Damien in a silence that pulsed with heat.
The city stretched beyond the windows—cold, bright, indifferent. But inside his office, everything burned.
He stood still, fists flexing at his sides, jaw clenched as Monroe’s voice echoed in his head.
But his mind was no longer in the room.
It had drifted—back to the hospital. Back to her.
Maya.
He remembered the sterile hum of machines, the antiseptic chill that did nothing to touch the heat she stirred in him. The way she looked sleeping—lashes casting shadows over flushed skin, her mouth parted slightly, as if whispering secrets even in dreams.
One arm curled beneath her cheek.
The other resting near her heart.
She had looked fragile — beautiful.
And his.
He hadn’t planned to
