67

Damon

The suite was an aftermath of a war zone. The door had been broken down and was hanging off the hinges. The expensive furniture inside the living area had been upturned and used as a makeshift barricade. Behind the largest couch were a few droplets of blood.

Corpses littered the floor and the walls bore bullet holes and bloodstains. On the stairs lay another pile of bodies, one hanging off the railings, looking like it would fall with a slight nudge. Behind me, I could hear my men turning the bodies around to see if they recognized any. More bodies littered the hallway to the suite. The pristine white marble and walls were stained with drips and puddles of blood, while bullet holes decorated the walls at strange and abrupt places.

The chandelier that once beautified the hallway lay shattered on the floor. I stood at the end of the hallway, staring out at the stained glass into the street below. I knew I wouldn't find Isabella in her room, but my hand twitched desperately to o