Damian

Damian sat at his desk, slowly eating his dinner, though the food tasted like ash in his mouth. His mind was elsewhere—focused on the danger Elara had placed herself in, the threat of Charles looming larger with every passing moment.

Just as he finished the last bite, his phone buzzed again. His pulse quickened. He snatched it up, expecting an update from Jackson, but it wasn’t. It was his top security man.

“We were able to trace your wife, sir,” the man said as soon as Damian picked up the call.

Damian immediately rose to his feet. With a low but scary voice, he responded. “Where? Where is she?”

“We were able to trace her phone, sir, but…” The voice over the phone paused.

“But what?” Damian yelled. “Fucking answer my question.”

“We lost her again.”

“You lost her, or the phone?” Damian demanded.

“Both.”

He rubbed his hair in frustration. “Why? Why the heck are you calling me to inform me about that? Why did you call to give me hope that wasn’t there? Fuck off,” he cursed. “Call me whe