Leone’s POV

The silence that followed the gunshot was thick.

Not from fear. Not from the man’s blood splattered across the concrete wall. But from her. The girl who screamed my name like it burned her throat.

"Ariana?"

My voice was gravel. Rough and ragged like it had been dragged through a war. Because it had. The war was standing ten feet away from me, shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane. Pale. Hollow-eyed. Frozen.

She wasn’t looking at the body. She was looking at the ...