The study felt cold and lifeless, its atmosphere reminiscent of a tomb. A photograph of Isla, captured in a moment of joy, lay on the polished mahogany desk—a stark contrast to the tension in the room. Next to it, a lock of her hair, delicately coiled and glinting in the dim light, seemed to serve as a silent threat, signifying everything that was at stake.

Damon stood with his back to the room, his silhouette outlined against the encroaching darkness outside the tall window, watching as day ...