The crack of impact echoes through the penthouse like a gunshot.
I jump to my feet instantly. The sound is sharp, violent, final. Glass shatters. Something clatters across the floor. The noise vibrates along the hallway and straight into my bones.
Then silence.
A heavy, unnatural silence.
My stomach knots. I rush to the door, fling it open, and step into the hallway.
Damian stands near the far wall, chest heaving, hands clenched at his sides. Shards glitter across the floor like scattered ice. His private device lies in ruined pieces, the screen fractured into a spiderweb of broken light.
He does not notice me at first.
He is staring at the wall where he threw it, as if he is struggling to come back into himself. His breath is ragged. His shoulders are tense, almost trembling.
“Dam
