–Damon–
I watched as my son snuggled against his mother's tummy—like he knew, instinctively, that there were triplets in there.
His siblings.
I was over the moon when I found out she was pregnant.
But triplets?
That shock never really left me.
Happiness came with it—intense, overwhelming—but so did something else.
Anxiety.
A constant, gnawing weight in my chest.
She'll be fine.
That's what I keep forcing into my head.
Over and over again.
My thoughts drifted—to the assholes now rotting in my dungeon. I'll deal with them personally when I visit.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Those pedophiles.
We don't specialize in that kind of filth. We run contracts, lend men to vigilantes—people with money and a need to play masked heroes in the dark.
Some of them are admirable.
Some of them just want blood.
Either way—
We provide.
"Dada!"
I lifted my head, glancing over.
Sky was awake.
