The morning light was slow to filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the living room as I sat, sipping my coffee, lost in thought. The house was still, unusually so, as if the world had been holding its breath. Damien had been quiet for hours, pacing through his thoughts as he prepared for what he knew was coming. I could feel the weight of it, the tension in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon.
Victor Ashford wasn't just a ghost from the past anymore. He was here, in the present, and he wasn't leaving until he'd done what he set out to do—destroy everything Damien had worked so hard to rebuild.