The gun didn't tremble.
Victor's hand was steady.
Ethan could feel the cold metal pressed against his skull while rain ran down his temple, mixing with blood.
"You built your empire on lies," Victor said calmly.
Ethan's voice was low. "No. You did."
Ava's body was trapped inside the overturned SUV. Her vision blurred. Every breath hurt. But she could hear them.
And she heard something else.
Not sirens.
Not rain.
Footsteps.
Many footsteps.
Headlights pierced the darkness. Black luxury sedans rolled into the parking lot like silent predators.
Victor frowned.
"That wasn't part of the deal."
Ethan's heart dropped.
Deal?
The car doors opened slowly.
Miranda Vale stepped out.
Elegant. Composed. Untouched by chaos.
Ava's godmother.
The woman who attended her father's funeral.
The woman who held her while she cried.
Miranda smiled softly.
"Oh, Ethan… you should've died quietly."
Victor's face changed. "You said this was about revenge."
Miranda didn't even look at him.
"It was about control."
Suddenly one of Miranda's men shot Victor in the shoulder.
He screamed and dropped the gun.
Miranda looked down at him like trash.
"Loose ends must be removed."
Ava's blood ran cold.
Ethan realized something terrifying:
Victor was never the villain.
He was just the bait.
Miranda raised the gun.
And aimed at Ava.