Freddy’s POV

The night air smelled like blood and gunpowder.

The moment I stepped out of the car, I knew.

I was too late.

Not too late to stop the fight—

Too late to protect her from it.

Because as I walked toward the scene, my men following in tense silence, I saw her.

Aliana.

Standing over five dead bodies, her gun still warm in her hand.

Her face was unreadable.

No fear.

No hesitation.

Just calm, calculated control.

And in that moment, I understood something.

She wasn’t my Queen.

She was my equal.

The bodies were sprawled across the stone path of the garden.

Some had bullet wounds.

Others...