Chase's POV:
"Father is dead," Damon said, his voice flat and emotionless. "Murdered, to be more precise…"
The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. For a moment, I thought I had misheard him, but the grim expression on his face told me otherwise. My mind reeled, struggling to make sense of what he had just said.
"What the hell?" I managed, my voice sharp and disbelieving.
Sure, I knew my father's death was inevitable. He had been weak for recently, his health failing him steadily. The only thing keeping him tethered to life was sheer willpower—and, recently, Leila. Taking her to meet him had given him a spark of joy I hadn't seen in years. She was, after all, the daughter of his long-lost friend, a connection to a time before the weight of the crown had hollowed him out.
But this? Murder?
It was something else entirely.
