He was already on Gordon.
"You are my general," Demian snarled, grabbing Gordon by the collar and hauling him halfway off the floor. "I entrusted that castle to you. Her to you."
The second punch landed.
Not wild but precise, driven by two days of contained fury.
"Do you know what you did?!" Demian shouted. "You decided I didn't need to know. You decided Valerie could wait."
A third blow.
Gordon did not resist. He did not raise his hands. He accepted every strike because in his own eyes, he deserved them.
"If she—" Demian's voice broke, his rage cracking into something darker, more painful. "If anything happens to her—"
He released Gordon without warning.
The general collapsed back onto the floor, gasping, blood warm at the corner of his mouth. Demian did not look at him again.
Demian stepped back several paces, his hands trembling, his breathing heavy and uneven. The anger was still there but now it was mixed with something far more dangerous: fear.
