Dahlia’s heels clicked across the vault floor like a countdown.
Her gun never wavered from Gianna’s temple, and her smile was razor thin.
“You know,” she said softly, “I thought you’d bring an army. But this? One traitor. One bleeding queen. And one dead man walking.”
Selene’s body went rigid.
Darius stayed frozen, gun half-raised, eyes tracking Dahlia like a wolf deciding whether to lunge or die trying.
“Let her go,” Selene said.
Dahlia c****d her head.
“Still issuing orders? You’re adorable.”
“You want me,” Selene said. “Not her.”
Dahlia leaned closer to Gianna, inhaling her hair.
“Sweet Ivy always thought she could hide behind your shadow,” Dahlia whispered. “Turns out, it’s your shadow that’s choking her now.”
“Let her go,” Selene repeated, stepping forward.
Dahlia pressed
