Damon’s POV:Fuck.The word played on a loop in my mind. I gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, my jaw tight enough it ached. I dared a glance toward the passenger seat.Ophelia was there. She was hunched over, her small frame nearly swallowed by the oversized velvet hoodie I’d bought her. Behind her, tucked into a child seat I’d had my assistant rush-deliver to the hospital, Valeria was fast asleep.God. How the hell did I get here?My mind drifted back to the hospital hallway yesterday—the look in Ophelia’s eyes. When she’d begged me to take her back to the manor, I’d felt a surge of pure, unadulterated rage.
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