Camilla slowly opened her fingers.
She dropped the whip. It fell from her hand and hit the table with a soft clack. She discarded the weapon.
"Please stand up, my lord," Camilla instructed him gently. Her voice was normal and calm. "I am not that kind of wife. I have no intentions of punishing you."
Damon took a slow, shaky breath. He uncurled his tight fists. He placed his large hands on his knees and pushed himself up from the floor.
He stood up to his full, towering height. Even without his military coat, he looked massive and imposing. But his face was still slightly flushed with red, and his eyes were full of deep regret.
Camilla looked up at him. She crossed her arms loosely over her white chemise.
"What really happened?" Camilla asked softly. She wanted to hear the truth from his own mouth. "Why did you suddenly attack Allen in the store?"
Damon looked down at her. He felt a deep sense of shame, but he knew he owed her an honest explanation.
