Page 82 of My Sunfall

Another thump.

I fire two more shots, one in each of Lorenzo’s shoulders. He crashes backward with a howl.

Then there’s silence. And my mind snaps back to the moment.

Chiara is already scrambling backward, clutching her throat, chest heaving and eyes blazing with a mix of disbelief, grief and fury.

Lorenzo is slumped against the wall, breath ragged, the knife protruding from his thigh. Rage and pain distort his face, turning it into something inhuman.

I keep the gun trained at him, but my eyes are on Chiara. I assess her state. She looks shocked, her face is bruised, and her throat already shows purple finger marks. I try to contain my rage and anguish at seeing her hurt.

“Cara mia,” I rasp, my voice barely a hoarse whisper. I’m on my knees in front of her in a beat. My heart is ready to give out in my chest. It will probably stop forever if she pushes me away. But I can’t help myself, I reach out to her, despite everything.

Her eyes snap to mine, and widen a fraction as they fill with recognition, then relief.

The next second, she’s in my arms. She collapses against me with a soft, broken sob, and just like that, breath slams back into my lungs so hard I sway. I wrap myself around her, holding her like she’s the only thing tethering me to this life. She certainly is.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper over and over into her hair, not sure if I’m reassuring her or myself.

Slowly, we stand up, my arm around her and her hand gripping my shirt.

Lorenzo is on his knees, bleeding, seething, glaring up at us like a cornered animal.

Chiara looks briefly down at him, then back at me, resolve written all over her face. I instantly understand what she is saying without words.

“My fierce little warrior,” I rasp, looking down into her hazel eyes. “If anyone has the right to end him, it’s you.”

Chiara’s breath stutters. I unlock the gun and extend it toward her. Her eyes snap up to mine and she hesitates.

“Don’t you need him alive?” she asks in a strained voice. “For interrogation? A trial?”

“We do,” I say evenly. “And if you tell me no, he lives—for now. I’ll take him away, and you’ll never have to think about this moment again.”

She furrows her brows, eyes filled with uncertainty.

“I’m giving you this choice. He’s yours.” I hold her gaze, steadfast. “You decide what happens next.”

Her eyes widen and she wavers for a beat. Then she slowly reaches out to take the gun from my fingers and turns toward the slumped form. Her fingers shake, but her grip is sure when she raises it and points it directly at Lorenzo’s forehead.

“You!” she snarls at Lorenzo, grief and fury mingling in her voice. “Your organization hurt Lily. They killed my mother.” She pauses for a beat, hand tightening around the gun. “And you killed my father. You destroyed so many lives. But no more.”

Her finger settles on the trigger. She looks up at me, as if to search for strength. I don’t say anything, I just hold her gaze, telling her in silence—You’re not wrong for wanting justice. You’re not weak for hesitating. This choice is yours. And I’m here. Whatever you decide, I’m here.

Her breath shudders and she looks back at Lorenzo.

“Chiara,” he starts to plead, when he sees the resolve in her gaze. “You don’t want to—”

The shot rings loudly in the small room, making the ensuing silence even more deafening.

Lorenzo’s body slumps to the side, eyes wide, a hole in his forehead.

“Cara mia,” I say softly, brushing my hand along her arm toward her hand to wrap around the gun. She lets it go, breathing hard, eyes glued to Lorenzo’s body. I put the safety back on and put the gun into my back holster.

She turns to me, face pale but eyes shining. “I don’t regret doing it,” she says, lifting her chin.

I exhale a harsh, trembling breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “You’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever met, love,” I murmur. She looks up into my eyes and her gaze locks with mine. For a breath, we don’t move.

Then we clash.