Silas raises the weapon in a flash—but before he can pull the trigger, Atlas shoots him in the chest, killing him instantly. The gun slips back to the ground as Silas goes limp, and everything falls silent as the sound of the gunshot fades.

The world seems oddly quiet, except for the crackling roar of the clubhouse that’s still burning not too far away. Suddenly, it feels like such a long time ago that I started that fire. So much shit has happened since then.

I glance at the three Princes of Carnage as they look down at Silas’s body. As if drawn by my gaze, Nico’s eyes lift to meet mine. For just a second, his focus drops down to my arm, scanning the wound as an expression I can’t read in the dim light passes over his face.

But I don’t waste time trying to guess what he’s thinking. I don’t have the luxury of that anymore.

Instead, I lunge forward, going for the gun that Silas dropped.

Nico realizes what I’m doing and moves at almost the same time I do, grabbing my good arm and yanking me away. Holding me at a distance, he trains his weapon on me, and I stop short. I glare at him, my jaw tight, and I can see the same level of anger that I feel burning back at me from his eyes.

“Not so fast, mia cara,” he says, his voice just as hard as when he was talking to Silas. “You just destroyed what I spent years building. But luckily, it seems I’ve got something even more valuable than that. You.”

My stomach twists, and I shake my head. “I don’t know what the hell he was talking about. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be valuable.”

Something flashes in Nico’s eyes, a momentary flicker of warmth. It makes me think of the way he used to look at me sometimes before everything fell apart—back when things were good between us, and he thought I was valuable for other reasons.

But whatever I thought I saw on his face, it’s smothered just as quickly by anger.

He steps closer, looming over me, and Atlas and Killian move in to flank him on either side. When I glance at them, their faces are hard too, no trace of affection or fondness anywhere.

“I don’t know either,” Nico admits. “But you’re not leaving my side until we find out.” He smiles grimly. “After all, you said it best. What’s yours is mine, wife.”

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