Chapter One Hundred and Ninety-Nine
Alicia's POV
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the house.
Final. Permanent. Done.
I felt nothing. No relief. No guilt. Just exhaustion.
Malachi's arm tightened around me. "Come on. Let's get you upstairs. You need to rest."
"I need to check on Sophie."
"She's with your grandmother. Marco's making sure everyone's okay."
"The bodies—"
"Will be handled. That's not your concern."
But it was. This had happened in my grandmother's house. In the home where my mother grew up. Blood on the floors. Bullet holes in the walls.
All because of me.
"Stop," Malachi said.
"Stop what?"
"Blaming yourself. I can see it on your face. This isn't your fault."
"Zhao came here for me—"
"Zhao came here because he was obsessed. Because he couldn't accept that you didn't want him. That's on him. Not you."
Signora Moretti appeared in the hallway. "Alicia, cara. Come. Sit. You look pale."
