The agony in my body was a burning cage, locking me in place, yet I couldn't tear my eyes away from the grotesque spectacle unfolding in the doorway. The final remnants of the library’s gloom clung to Vladimir, transforming him into a creature of myth—a blood-soaked shadow emerging from the darkness.

Damon was a pathetic contrast. He was no longer the immaculate Don; he was a wounded animal, dragging his broken, bleeding leg across the cold floor toward the open door, his face a mask of ...