Chapter 6

My stomach dropped. "What did you say?"

She pulled out her phone. Opened her gallery.

One image after another — Luna on the range. Luna's small body covered in blood.

"I only shot her once." Iris scrolled slowly.

"She went quiet right after. Way better behaved than you, honestly. One more bullet and she would've been completely silent."

I went still.

"The last shot was Damian's." Her mouth curved up. "She was crying — calling him brother, please — and Damian just pulled the trigger. So cool. So beautiful. I finally understood why he likes guns so much."

I lunged. My hands closed around her throat.

The shop assistants screamed. Chairs overturned.

I slammed her against the wall and lifted her off the floor. She clawed at my arms.

"Selene!" Damian's voice roared from behind me.

I didn't let go.

Then Damian's boot connected with my ribs and I flew sideways into a display rack. Glass shattered around me.

He had a gun in his hand. Pointed at my forehead.

"Selene Ashford." Very cold. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

He was shaking. "All she did was call you ugly, and you try to kill her? I've been too damn soft with you."

Iris was sobbing on the floor. Damian knelt beside her, cradling her against his chest.

I spat blood onto the tiles. "She killed my sister."

"Your sister is alive," he snapped.

"Barely. And if you ever raise a hand to Iris again, I'll make sure Luna stays that way."

I stared at him. At the gun. At the woman in his arms — who was smiling over his shoulder.

"Then kill me." My voice cracked.

"Do it. Damian."

His finger twitched on the trigger.

I watched his face. Waiting for the bullet.

Then his eyes found mine — really found them, tears and blood and all — and his whole body locked up.

He shoved the gun back into his holster. "Get her back to the compound. Lock her in the basement."

Soldiers grabbed me by the arms. I didn't fight.

As they dragged me out, he called after me. "I'll deal with you after my wedding."

I didn't look back.

I thought he would tear me apart.

I'd seen him take a man's hand off at the wrist for less.

Instead — the basement.

No one came. No food. No water. Just the drip of a leaky pipe somewhere above my head and the rustle of rats in the corners.

I sat on the cold concrete and let the tears come.

After a while, I started to laugh.

Damian.

Damian Knight.

I was sorry.

Sorry I hadn't run sooner.

Sorry I'd ever taken his hand in the back of that car.

Most of all — sorry I had let him save me.

Maybe Luna would be grown up in some quiet little town. A house with a yard.

Through the door, the soldiers whispered.

*The Don was busy with the wedding.*

*Reception's tomorrow. Florist's already here.*

I curled tighter around my leg.

Tomorrow.

He was marrying her tomorrow.