"I didn't expect the Bratva's tech queen to be quite so... captivating," Lorenzo's voice dripped with irony as he observed Galina, who was absorbed in deciphering a web of encrypted data.
Galina's gaze remained fixed on her screens, her expression a...
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I never saw it coming.
How would I?
One moment, I'm forcefully pinning Viktor against the wall, my frustration boiling over. The next, a gunshot shatters the charged air. The searing pain that radiates from my shoulder blades and courses through my back is unmistakable-I've been shot.
The reality of the situation sinks in as I grapple with the acute pain and try to remain upright. My breath comes in ragged gasps as I clutch my wound, trying to stifle the roiling fury within me.
I glare at her-the one who has inflicted this wound upon me. Her presence is a storm of defiance and anger, the gun she used still clutched tightly in her hand. Her eyes, bloodshot and fierce, hold mine with an intensity that is almost palpable. She slips the weapon back into the thigh holster where it had been concealed, a stark reminder of the treachery that has unfolded.
Raphael's imposing figure approaches, his movements swift and precise. He assesses my wound with a practiced eye, his touch careful yet urgent. The room remains eerily silent, the collective shock and disbelief of the onlookers hanging heavy in the air. Their faces are masks of bewilderment, their eyes wide with unspoken questions. The silence is almost deafening, broken only by the faint murmur of those still grappling with the scene's enormity.
I scan the room, catching sight of my family members-each one of them seemingly paralyzed by the unexpected violence. The stark reality that my own engagement ceremony has devolved into a chaotic, violent confrontation leaves me reeling. Never in my wildest nightmares could I have anticipated being shot by my own fiancé.
The gunshot's echo still reverberates in my ears as I turn my attention back to the pair before me. Viktor, standing beside her, wears a look of incredulous horror reminiscent of Luca's exasperated expressions when Viviana pulls one of her stunts. It's a moment frozen in time, an image of disarray and betrayal.
Yet, amidst the somber chaos, there's a peculiar sound that filters through the tension-giggles. The incongruous sound seems to drift from behind me, jarring against the backdrop of pain and astonishment. I turn my head, trying to locate the source of the disturbing levity, but my vision blurs slightly with the intensity of my pain.
The absurdity of the situation, the utter betrayal and the laughter that cuts through it, creates a tableau of surreal drama. As Raphael continues to assess my injury, and the room struggles to make sense of the calamity, the laughter persists, a discordant note in the otherwise dissonant symphony of the night.
"Dang, Orz, that hottie really took him down!" I hear Luca's voice pierce through the tense atmosphere, his whisper carrying a tone of mischievous amusement. His laughter bubbles up, only slightly muffled.
Orazio's response is a low, sardonic murmur, barely hiding his own amusement. "More like she fucking devoured him. Kinda deserved it though."
The comment hangs in the air, a bitter irony in the midst of chaos. I cast them a sharp, piercing glare, my patience wearing thin. My left eyebrow arches in a silent challenge, daring them to continue their levity in the face of such a dire situation. They meet my gaze with feigned innocence, their expressions a picture of exaggerated calm as if they've been nothing but well-behaved angels throughout.
