Last Chance.

Before I could blink, Savik grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed me hard against the wall. A sharp, blinding pain shot through me like lightning. I couldn’t think straight.

“You’re bad at everything!” he snapped, breathing heavily. “You’re just useless. A waste of time. So you couldn’t kill the damn man—all you do is f**k him! and you dear to talk back at me?” I felt disgusted know it's my own bother that's saying this things to me.

His words hit harder than the wall. My heart dropped. My skin turned ice cold.

His grip tightened, yanking my head back. I cried out in pain, tears stinging my eyes as I was forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were full of something dark and vicious—pure rage. Then I saw it.

Something shiny.

He pulled it from under his coat—a gun.

A cold, black gun.

The moment he pressed the barrel against my cheek, my whole body froze. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink. My entire body turned into stone. The touch of the metal was like death itself whispering in my ear.

My eyes widened in shock. My heart pounded so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. My lips parted, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even cry.

“You know what this is for, right?” he said in a low, terrifying voice, one that chilled my bones. “That poison you were supposed to give Vulvan? It should be working by now. But no... Instead, you decided to be his little f**k doll.”

His words cut through me, deep and raw. My breath caught in my throat.

Then he laughed. A bitter, mocking laugh.

“Surprised?” he spat. “I saw the way he looked at you. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t anything close. He looked at you with disgust. You’re so damn dumb you can’t even tell.”

My heart clenched. My mind screamed, That’s not true. He’s lying. But what if he wasn’t?

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked fast, trying to hold them back. My throat was dry. My hands trembled.

“You think someone like you could be loved?” he sneered, voice thick with hatred. “If I don’t hear that Vulvan is dying—bleeding, suffering—then one of you will die. And guess what? I’ll start with you.”

“Savik, please,” I whispered, barely able to find my voice. “Please don’t do this…”

He smiled. That cold, dark smile that made my stomach twist. Then came a sound I’ll never forget—a sharp, chilling click.

He cocked the gun.

I gasped, legs buckling beneath me. My knees shook uncontrollably. Hot tears poured down my cheeks. I didn’t know if he would shoot. I didn’t know anything anymore. The sound alone felt like a knife slicing through my chest.

My chest heaved. Panic choked me. My life flashed in small pieces—memories, moments, laughter, pain. Everything.

Then he paused.

“I would love to pull the trigger,” he whispered, almost like he was enjoying every second. “But your work isn’t done. I’m giving you a second chance. Screw this up again, and you know what will happen.”

He pulled the gun away and tucked it back into his coat. I wanted to fall to the ground in relief. But I didn’t get the chance.

Before I could move, before I could breathe, he punched me.

Hard.

Right in the stomach.

The pain exploded inside me. My body folded in on itself. I collapsed to my knees, arms wrapping around my belly. I cried out, gasping for air that refused to come. The pain was unbearable—raw, sharp, and all-consuming.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to vomit. But all I could do was curl into myself.

He knelt beside me, grabbed my hair again, and yanked my head up so I was forced to look at him.

“If you mess this up again,” he said slowly, voice like venom, “I will make sure your death is slow... painful... and deserved.”

Then he let go.

Just like that. He stood and walked away, leaving me on the floor like trash.

My arms clutched my stomach. Everything hurt—my head, my belly, my ribs, my heart. I couldn’t stop crying. My sobs were soft at first, then louder, until I was just curled up in a ball, sobbing like a child.

I felt useless.

I felt broken.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to die. I wanted the pain to stop.

But I couldn’t stay there. I had to go back. I had to fix my face, wipe my tears, pretend like nothing happened.

With trembling hands, I wiped my face. My cheeks were wet and sticky with tears. My eyes were red, my lips swollen. I looked like a mess. A miserable, pathetic mess.

I couldn’t let him see me like this.

So I didn’t go back to him.

I ran instead.

Somewhere far from the people. Somewhere no one would look.

I ended up on the balcony—an empty corner where the night sky stretched over the city like a blanket. The breeze kissed my skin, and for a moment, I could breathe.

I leaned against the railing, eyes still damp. My chest still tight. My hands still shook.

And then I saw it.

A glass. Just sitting there on a tray. It looked like juice or soda. I didn’t care. I picked it up.

And drank.

The burning sensation hit my throat instantly. I coughed. It wasn’t soda—it was alcohol.

I blinked. Then shrugged.

Did it matter?

I drank again.

The fire in my chest dulled the pain in my belly, in my head, in my heart. I drank again. And again. The warmth spread through me, loosening the grip of fear.

I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t want to care.

I started laughing. Quiet, breathy giggles. It wasn’t funny. None of it was. But I couldn’t stop. The laughter spilt out of me like broken pieces.

Maybe I was losing it. Maybe I had already lost it.

I leaned further on the railing, eyes on the stars. They looked like smudged lights in water—blurry and far away. I swayed slightly. The world tilted. I clutched the railing with both hands, trying to stay upright.

I whispered to myself. Stupid little things. My voice was shaky and weird. I laughed again. Then cried. I removed my heels and flung them down from the balcony, aiming for the water. but I missed terribly. I didn’t know what I was anymore. I was a mess. I didn’t care what Vulvan thought. Or Savik. Or anyone. They could all go to hell.

The only thing I wanted in that moment was to forget. To be numb. To not feel like a used, discarded, broken thing.

I stared into the night, my thoughts drifting, scattered like ash in the wind.

I drank again. I let myself fall into that feeling. That strange, empty, floating feeling. For the first time in a long time… I wasn’t afraid.

I was just… lost.