Damian’s POV

The penthouse windows stretched from floor to ceiling, a wide sweep of glass overlooking the

New York skyline. The city glowed beneath Damian’s feet, skyscrapers standing tall and one

could see colourful lights from all the windows.

Inside, Damian sat at the bar counter, a tumbler of whiskey untouched beside him. He loosened

his tie, leaned back, and closed his eyes. His father’s words wouldn’t leave him.

No heir. No inheritance.

It was absurd, because he had built ...