Amy My mother blinked, glancing down at the paper, then up at his dark, murderous eyes. “What is this supposed to mean?” “Read it,” he growled at her. “Damien, I’m having breakfast with my daughters—” “And I’m asking you a fucking question.” His voice remained terrifyingly low, but the ice in it made my sister pull her hands back from the table as if she’d been burned. Finally, my mother, with a deep exhale, picked up the document. Her eyes moved across the typed lines, her expression stubbornly refusing to crack, though I watched the subtle twitch in her jaw before she laid it back down. “I was handling it,” she said smoothly. “You were handling it?” Damien repeated, leaning forward, his shoulders tensing under his shirt. “You’ve pumped millions of corporate dollars into a speculative tech venture that I explicitly told you not to touch, and now the investment has collapsed? The company is facing a cash-flow shortfall you cannot cover. Rose, what exactly have you been
آخر تحديث : 2026-10-15
