Gino stood at the edge of the trees, his body stiff, his breath shallow.
Mikhail’s golden eyes burned with fury, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. He hadn’t moved since Gino had spoken, but the silence between them stretched, heavy and unbearable.
Makayla took a shaky step forward.
“Dad… please…” Her voice trembled, pleading.
Gino’s throat tightened.
She still called him that.
She still believed in him.
Even after what he had done.
He wanted to reach for her. Wanted to hold onto the last pieces of himself before they slipped away completely.
But Mikhail wouldn’t allow it.
He stepped in front of her, his entire body tense, his fangs peeking from beneath his lips.
“You should have stayed gone,” Mikhail spat. His voice was cold. Controlled. But beneat
