Isabelle’s POV
The night was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city beyond my windows.
I had just settled onto the couch, a glass of wine in hand, when the knock came.
No. Not a knock. A pound.
Sharp. Unrelenting.
I knew who it was before I even stood.
Damion.
I took a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm. But my hands trembled slightly as I set my glass down and walked toward the door.
I should have ignored it. I should have let him stew in whatever storm was raging inside him.
But I didn’t.
Because I wanted to face him. I needed to.
I unlocked the door and pulled it open, coming face to face with the man who had once held my entire world in his hands—and shattered it without a second thought.
He looked…unhinged.
His tie was gone, the top buttons of his shirt undone. H
