The sky darkened as evening approached. On the top floor of Arman Group’s headquarters, Damian stood with his back to his desk, gazing out at the city through the floor-to-ceiling window. Light rain blurred the view of the skyscrapers beyond.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the table. The screen lit up with a message from an anonymous sender:

“She’s at the hospital. With the boy.”

Damian’s face instantly turned cold. His jaw tightened, and the hand holding his phone curled into a fist.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. Grabbing his coat, he pressed the intercom button.

“Postpone all my meetings tonight. I’m leaving.”

“Yes, Mr. Damian,” his assistant...