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There would be no doubts.
There would be no questioning her.
This was the rule of our world.
And this was the silent pact that I made with my mouse when I put that ring on her finger.
I slowly returned to breathing.
Silence.
This spooky, freezing cold silence hung around us.
Not even my men moved or dared to breathe.
Emily stood, gun pressed firmly against Tisha’s face, her arm steady, betraying none of the turmoil that probably raged within her small frame.
Tisha, despite the cold metal against his skin, maintained an eerie calm too, as his eyes remained locked on Emily.
Each second stretched into eternity.
Then, Valentina put her gaze on me. Fear and disbelief ran through her eyes, and there was this silent pleading for me to intervene.
But I remained still, rooted to the spot, understanding the sacred, unspoken rules of our world where actions bore consequences, where accountability was not just expected but demanded.
How many times had I killed Emily’s men for making a fraction of the mistake Tisha had made?
How many bullets had I put in Harlem Crew’s heads?
Therefore, I could not say anything.
Yet, still this unbearable pressure rose in my core, making my chest feel tight and constricted.
Rapid, shallow breaths left me.
I did my best to make sure no one noticed. I wanted so bad to clutch at my heart to try to physically contain the anxious pounding within, but I refused to move.
Instead, I blinked through the pressure.
And Valentina watched me and frowned, probably knowing exactly what I was struggling with.
Emily’s voice—when it finally broke the silence—was laced with venom. “Were you still on a break, while Kaz and I were being hunted and while Max was bleeding out on the floor?”
Tisha’s response was barely audible. “I messed up. If you pull that trigger, Emily. You should not feel guilty. I deserve to die right now.”
“You see my eyes, motherfucker?”
“I do.”
“You see any guilt? Any hesitation?”
“No, Emily.”
“In fact, I want to pull the trigger bad. Sooooooo fuuuuuucking bad. I kind of think. . .it would feel good to do it. Maybe. . .it would be satisfying. Shit. . .it could be closure. What do you think?”
I swallowed hard.
Emily’s finger lightly touched the trigger. “You better hope Max wakes up. Do you understand me?”
