The shot cracked like lightning. One single, sharp sound. Noa’s breath caught mid-scream. He didn’t flinch, he didn't even blink but the sound of it echoed like a death toll through his ribs. His heart stuttered. His hands clenched. And then he realized. He wasn’t the one bleeding.

Alessio.

The bullet had struck him in the side, a little lower than the shoulder, clean through. But he was still standing. Still moving. His face twisted, pure pain and defiance.

Noa’s body moved before his ...