Aiden's POV
The sickening smirk remained plastered on Davon's face as he stood there on the pavement, his eyes locked onto mine with an mocking, unbothered intensity.
"Why the hell are you here?" I demanded, the words scraping past my throat like gravel. "Why did you come back?"
Davon tilted his head, his smirk stretching a fraction wider. "Why can't I be here? I mean... this is my country, isn't it?"
"You don't belong here anymore," I snapped, my voice laced with a lethal promise.
The playful smile finally faded from Davon's face. His features hardened, and he let out a sharp, bitter scoff. "If Lucian can still freely roam around these streets, why the hell can't I?" he countered, his voice turning sharp and defensive. "I mean, let's be real here—I wasn't the only one who killed people back then. He did plenty of slaughtering too, so why exactly should I be the only one forced to live my life on the run?"
