Damien’s POV
I opened the front door expecting to greet my wife and her daughter with the usual calm smile I wore for family matters. What I got instead hit me like a silver bullet to the chest.
Ofelia.
She stood there in my foyer with two worn suitcases at her feet, looking small and overwhelmed next to Victoria. The same woman from the club. The same woman whose body I had claimed for hours that night. The same soft laugh and wide eyes that had haunted me every damn day since.
Of all the people in this city, she was the last one I expected to see standing in my house.
My wolf surged forward instantly, pressing against my skin. I locked it down hard, forcing my face to stay neutral. No one could know. Not Victoria. Not the staff. And definitely not the pack if word got out.
Victoria
