Aliana’s POV

The scent of gunpowder and blood filled the room.

Viktor sprawled on the ground, coughing feebly, his previously immaculate suit splattered with red. Freddy loomed above him, his expression inscrutable, his knuckles still marked from striking the last hits.

I remained motionless, the firearm tightly held in my shaking hands. My heartbeat throbbed in my ears, overshadowing all else.

I ought to have experienced relief.

I ought to have felt liberated.

Yet, what I sensed was an odd, weighty conviction.

Viktor gazed at me, his puffy lips shaping into a slight, crimson grin. Even on the brink of death, he ridiculed me.

"You still have an option," he...