This wasn't mortal flesh hurting.
This was a shockwave tearing straight through my Immortal Soul.
I shoved the keyboard away, one hand pressed to my chest, face drained of all color.
Thomas. Thomas Harding. My sworn brother, the Sunfire Immortal, who'd come down to the mortal world with me to live out a human life.
Before we descended, we'd exchanged Fate Sigils. The moment either of us faced mortal danger, the other's soul would receive a distress signal.
Right now, the sigil bound to his life force was cracking apart.
Thomas, who had sworn to me that no birth parents could ever hurt their own child, was dying.
I kicked the gaming chair out of my way, snatched the car keys off the desk, and bolted.
"Harry Driscoll! Bruno Kessler!" My voice tore down the corridor like a thunderclap.
The entire Dunn mansion erupted.
In under thirty seconds, dozens of thick-necked enforcers in black suits came pouring down from every floor, lining up in front of me in tight formation.
"Young Heir!"
My father, Malcolm Dunn, ran the most powerful syndicate in the city. He'd been going legitimate in recent years, but the ferocity in his bones kept every last person from crossing him.