DAMON'S POV
I knew something was wrong when I found myself outside Vespera Vale’s bedroom at seven in the morning, holding two coffees and wondering whether she had slept.
This was not a normal concern to have about a woman who had broken into my office, stolen confidential documents, escaped through a window, and threatened to stab me approximately twelve times since arriving at Blackthorne territory.
I knocked.
“Go away.” She called.
“Good morning to you, too.” I said.
“I’m armed.” She said.
“I brought coffee.” I said.
“Then you’re armed with better judgment than I expected.” She said.
“Are you opening the door, or should I leave your coffee on the floor for the ants?” I asked.
The lock clicked, and Vespera appeared in black training trousers, a fitted shirt, and boots, her aub
