Things that never came out.

Chapter 31:- Damage

Rose's POV

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, every breath seeming to weigh heavy with the gravity of the situation.

My eyes flicked from Alestor, whose anger was barely restrained, to George, who stood there with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

But it was Harry who drew my attention, the way he moved with a predatory calmness, like a wolf finally closing in on its prey.

Then, everything shifted in an instant.

I heard the click of a safety being released, the subtle sound slicing through the silence like a knife.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw Harry move behind Alestor, his arm steady as he raised a gun and pressed it to the back of Alestor's head.

My breath caught in my throat, a cold dread settling over me as I realized what was happening.

"Put down the gun, Alestor," Harry's voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried a deadly weight. "Or I swear I'll put a bullet in your skull."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, the shock of the scene unfolding in front of me leaving me momentarily frozen.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Harry was supposed to be on our side, wasn't he?

Everyone else in the room seemed equally stunned, except for George, whose smirk widened into something cruel and triumphant.

He was the only one who didn't seem surprised by this turn of events, as if he had known all along that Harry would betray us.

"What the hell are you doing, Harry?" I finally managed to find my voice, the words tumbling out more forcefully than I intended.

My mind was racing, trying to make sense of this new threat. Harry was one of us, wasn't he? I had trusted him, and now he had a gun to Alestor's head.

Harry didn't even look at me as he replied, his eyes locked on Alestor, who was standing stock-still, his expression a mask of cold fury.
"The same thing you're doing, Rose," Harry said, his tone dripping with bitter irony.
"Planning, plotting... for revenge. The only difference is, your culprit is George Vincent. And mine... is you."

His words hit me like a physical blow, my breath catching in my throat.

Revenge? Against me? It didn't make any sense. Why would Harry, of all people, want to hurt me? What had I ever done to him

Alestor's voice cut through the confusion, sharp and commanding, "Don't bark nonsense, Harry."

But Harry didn't falter. His gaze was cold, focused, as if nothing Alestor said could sway him.

The room was a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest provocation, and Harry held the match.

I could see it in his eyes-there was no reasoning with him, not now. Not after he had come this far.

George, ever the opportunist, seized the moment to twist the knife further.

"Looks like your little team isn't as united as you thought, Rose," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Seems like you've made more enemies than you realize."

I glared at him. The guards in the room, who had been standing by, suddenly seemed to come to life, their guns now trained on Alestor.

I could feel the tension ratchet up another notch, every muscle in my body tensing as I realized just how precarious our situation had become.