The tension in the warehouse was thick enough to choke on. Tristan kept his gun raised, his fingers steady despite the chaos unraveling around them. Rosalind’s dagger gleamed under the dim lights, her stance predatory.
Nicholas took another step forward, his smirk widening. “Come on, Venom Rose. Let’s not pretend you actually have a choice here.”
Rosalind tilted her head, her red lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You always talk too much, Nicholas.”
His eyes darkened. “And you never know when to surrender.”
He flicked his wrist.
The signal was subtle—but the attack wasn’t.
In an instant, his men lunged.
Tristan fired first. The gunshot cracked through the air, dropping one of Nicholas’s thugs before he could reach them.
Rosalind was already in motion. She twis
