Dear EX
His jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his cheek twitched violently, and his right hand tightened around his crystal glass of scotch.
CREAK.
The heavy crystal glass actually groaned under the sheer force of his grip. His knuckles turned bone-white.
"Six months," Damien muttered, his blue eyes darkening into something pitch-black and terrifying.
"Six months," Victoria confirmed coolly, taking her seat. "May the best man win."
Amelia looked terrified by the sudden shift in energy. She reached out, placing a soft hand on Damien's arm. "Babe... it's okay. You're going to win, you know you are—"