Chapter 8 - The Price of Truth
cornered and desperate, Victor drew a hidden revolver from his coat and aimed it straight at me and Leah. "If I go down, the illegitimate bastard dies with me!" he roared. Before he could pull the trigger, Damian stepped directly into the line of fire. A deafening gunshot echoed through the glass tower. Damian took the bullet to his chest, but he didn't fall. With sheer, terrifying willpower, he closed the distance, disarmed Victor with his bare hands, and forced him to his knees as federal agents—contacted secretly by Damian hours earlier—shattered the glass balcony doors and swarmed the room.
Victor was dragged away in chains, shouting curses that were swallowed by the sound of police helicopters outside. I dropped to my knees beside Damian as he collapsed onto the marble floor, blood pooling beneath him. "Damian! Keep your eyes on me!" I cried, pressing my hands frantically against his chest to stop the bleeding. Leah reached out, her small voice crying out frantically, "Dada! Dada, don't go!" Hearing her call him 'Dada' for the first time, Damian smiled weakly through the pain, his hand reaching up to touch my cheek. "Save me, Elena..." he whispered before his eyes rolled back.
