All Chapters of Sinfully His: Chapter 21 - Chapter 26

Mr. Voss’s shadow filled the doorway, calm and absolute. The guards stiffened. Damien froze only for a breath. Then he pushed. The chain screamed and the bolt tore loose from the wall.The sound was sharp, metal on stone, and the guards spun toward him. Damien swung the length of chain like a weapon, slamming it into the nearest man’s head. The guard crumpled. Another lunged, baton raised, but Damien shifted his weight and wrapped the chain around the man’s arm, wrenching it until bone cracked.Mr. Voss didn’t flinch. His eyes were steady, cold, proud in a way that cut deeper than any weapon. “My son,” he said, as if watching a lesson unfold.Damien ignored the words. He spun again, chain striking, boots kicking. Another guard fell. A baton struck his ribs and pain exploded through his side, but he did not stop. He could not stop.Blood smeared the floor. Keys scattered. Damien dropped low, snatched them up, and ripped the manacles from his wrists. His skin tore where the metal had cu

“Get me Killan. Now.”Static crackles, then a voice comes through, steady but cautious. “Boss.”“I just got a message,” Damien says, voice raw from shouting and no sleep. “Unknown number. Images of Ivy. There is a countdown. I want the origin traced. Right now.”“Send it through.”Damien forwards the file, fingers shaking. His chest is tight, heart hammering. “God please don’t let anything happen to Ivy.” He whispers it, the first prayer he has muttered since his mother disappeared.Killan’s voice returns, clipped. “Got it. Location pinged. License plate matches a van. I have a street address. You want me to send coordinates?”“Yes. Coordinates. Now.”Maps pop up on the screen in front of Damien. Pins, lines, nothing but movement, everything pointing to a single building on the edge of the city. A warehouse district, empty streets, perfect for hiding.Damien grabs his coat, pistol in one hand, chain in the other. He signals to his men, their eyes wide but knowing. No questions. They m

Damien leans back in the chair for a moment, eyes never leaving Ivy. Her breathing is steady now, slow and regular, but the faint rise and fall of her chest still tugs at him. Her fingers twitch slightly, weak, as if trying to grasp something, but she does not move on her own. He studies her, memorizing every line of her face, the uneven color of her skin, the bruises dark beneath the pale surface. His ribs ache sharply with every small movement, but he ignores it. He glances at the monitors, nods slightly, then stands. He walks to the small sink across the room, washes his hands, wipes them on a clean towel, and returns to her bedside, careful not to make a sound that might startle her.The nurses quietly handle her care. They adjust the IV, check her vitals, bring small cups of water and soft food. Damien does not interfere, but he watches everything. Every motion, every careful tilt of her head, every cautious sip of water. He notices when she swallows, waits until her lips relax b