He led her to that same place he had told her to avoid.
On one wall was a giant picture of a man who looked just like Damian—his father.
There were photos of them fishing, laughing, riding horses, even baking cookies in the kitchen.
Elena's lips parted slightly. She had never imagined this.
"Damian… is this your dad?"
He stood behind her, his voice quiet but heavy with emotion.
"Yeah. That's him."
She turned to look at him. His face was hard, but his eyes told another story—one full of pain and longing.
"Leonid killed him," he said flatly, his jaw tightening.
Her heart dropped. "Is that why..?"
He nodded once.
"Yes. And I'm still angry he's alive. After everything… he still gets to breathe."
Before she could respond, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms gently around her waist from behind.
His chin rested lightly on her shoulder as he looked at the pictures in front of them.
"We used to come here," he said softly pointing at a picture.
