She said the name like a stone dropped into still water.
“Ethan.”
The air left Damien’s lungs.
His brother. His right hand. His trust.
How could this child know that name?
Reality clicked into place—precise, horrific, perfect.
The timing. The detail. The raw panic.
Damien looked at the door. The lock stared back like an eye.
For the first time in his life, the man who controlled everything realized he controlled nothing.
Slowly… he lowered his hand.
“Okay,” he said hoarsely. “I believe you.”
The bells rang again.
9:05.
Nothing happened.
The silence was worse than an explosion.
Because Damien understood: the blast depended on him. On turning the key.
His blood turned cold—but what followed wasn’t fear.
It was controlled fury.
“Let go,” he said calmly.
Luna released him, collapsing onto the sidewalk.
Damien dialed his phone.
Then everything changed.
