Alessandro's POV.
Every part of her was trembling. The look in her eyes was one of fear, and at that moment, I wanted to savor it like I always did, but the rage in me was too consuming.
"Alessandro...please..." she began crying again, softly and helplessly this time.
Was this supposed to touch me? And why was I still holding this gun?
I should shoot her and be done with it. She wasn't the first person I had killed, why should she remain alive after every one of her mistakes?
When did I become God to give chances or grace? Even God has his moments. I wasn't merciful, yet I kept giving her chances upon chances despite her multiple mess-ups.
I was done with this. Pointing the gun straight at her head, my finger tugged at the trigger.
"Alessandro," she whispered again.
I shouldn't c
