For a second, Noa couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. I couldn't think. His pulse flatlined as Alessio’s gun locked on him, the barrel steady, the fire in his eyes cold enough to burn.

It didn’t make sense. Alessio, his Alessio, the man who’d carved open his ribs just to hold his heart, was standing there like he’d been waiting to pull this trigger his whole life.

The silence wasn’t quiet. It screamed.

Noa’s voice broke on the way out. “You’re lying.”

Alessio’s smirk ...