Damien spun around, anger flaring. Fear didn’t touch him—indignation did. Her dirty hand on his suit offended him more than the words.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “I don’t have time for games.”
He bent to pick up the keys, already planning to call security.
But Luna wasn’t looking at an angry billionaire.
She was looking at a man about to die.
With a desperate cry, she dropped to the ground and wrapped herself around his leg with animal strength.
“Please!” she sobbed into the pristine fabric. “You’ll die—it’s a trap!”
Damien tried to shake her off. He couldn’t. Her trembling surged through him. Tears soaked through the expensive wool, reaching his skin.
It was disgusting.
And terrifying.
“Let go,” he ordered—but his voice cracked.
She looked up.
And Damien made the mistake of meeting her eyes.
There was no manipulation there. No scam. Only pure terror—the look of someone who had seen the end and was trying to slam the door shut.
“The man from the store,” she cried. “The one who smiles. I heard him last night. He said it would explode… at nine-oh-five.”
Damien checked his watch.
9:04.
His throat tightened.
“Which man?” he whispered.