Cherry didn't respond immediately. She kept her eyes on Damon for a few seconds, assessing whether he was truly willing to get involved at that level or if it was just a momentary reaction to what he'd heard. There was no hesitation in him. That became clear too quickly to ignore. His posture had already changed; his gaze was no longer that of someone merely listening to information—it was that of someone who had already made a decision and was just waiting for the necessary details to act.
Damon exhaled slowly, controlled, and ran a hand over his chin, still slightly damp from his recent shower. He didn't seem irritated in the usual sense. There was no emotional outburst, no raised voice. But there was something more dangerous there. Focus.
"Give me the location," he said, directly, without beating around the bush. "Distribution or production. It doesn't matter. I'll go there and stage an intervention."
