Chapter 92 —I Am the Devil

Narrator:

The sound of the office door slamming shut echoed through the huge room, but Roman didn't stop. His step was firm, determined, his jaw clenched and his dark eyes fixed on a non-existent point.

Dominic, who was already waiting for him, let out a sigh. He didn't need to ask him anything to know that things had gone wrong, but even so, he had to hear it from Roman himself.

He watched as his friend unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt with a tense movement, as if his clothes were suffocating him.

“Do you want to tell me what the hell happened out there?” Dominic asked calmly.

Roman was silent for a moment. He poured himself a whiskey, twirled the glass between his fingers, and then, in a low, dangerous voice, uttered the words Dominic didn't want to hear.

“Miranda is sick.”

Dominic frowned.

“Sick?”

Roman took a sip before nodding slowly.

“She says she has months to live.”

The silence that fell between them was thick.

Dominic didn't blink. Not because