The silence that followed was suffocating.
Valentina stood frozen in the middle of the courtyard, her chest rising and falling rapidly as the echoes of the last gunshot faded into the night. Smoke curled up from the barrel of the weapon still clutched in her trembling hands. The man at her feet, one of the DeLuca traitors, lay in a pool of blood, lifeless. She had pulled the trigger. Not out of panic, not out of reflex but with purpose.
She had chosen.
Behind her, the remnants of Adrian’s inner circle and guards surrounded the perimeter. Some wore looks of approval, others unease. But none dared speak. Not while Adrian stormed through the gates, his eyes already locked on her.
"Valentina!" His voice cracked through the air like a whip. His long strides closed the distance between them,
