(Alina)
I was still in my office with Bridgette and Dana when I heard the front door slam shut, making me look up from the papers scattered across my desk.
"That's weird," Bridgette said, glancing at the clock. "Wasn't expecting him back so soon."
Something felt off. Damian never slammed doors like that. I stood up and walked toward the hallway.
"Damian?" I called out. No answer.
I found him in the living room, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. There was something dark staining his shirt sleeve.
"Oh my God, what happened?" I rushed over to him. He looked up at me, his face pale.
"It's nothing, Alina. Just a scratch."
"A scratch?" I grabbed his arm gently and he winced. "This is blood, Damian. A lot of blood."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not fine." I started pulling at
