I ran my hand through my hair, my fingers trembling.
What if I was wrong? What if, in trying to see the good in Max, I’d blinded myself to the truth? But then the alternative—that my father was the one who was wrong; that he might be the one to tear everything apart—was almost too painful to consider.
My father was the person I’d trusted ever since I was born. His words were everything I’d ever believed in. My entire life would feel like a lie.
Every certainty I’d held onto was starting to slip away like sand through my fingers. The weight of everything pressed down on me, making it difficult to breathe. I wanted to believe my father was the man I’d always thought him to be, but the nagging doubts, the inconsistencies ... they were almost impossible to ignore. And Max ... he’d shown me a different side to the world—one that wasn’t so black-and-white.
It felt as if I were being pulled in two directions, torn between the past that had defined me and the future with Max that seemed uncertain.
And then I heard a sound that shattered everything. Every thought, every breath, and every beat of my heart.
It was a gunshot.
Before I could think, I was out of the car and running toward the warehouse. Fear gripped my throat as I imagined the worst. Was it my father acting impulsively, or was it Max? I wasn’t sure—they were both quick with their guns.
I pushed the door open, my eyes surveying the room.
Max and my father stood facing each other, both with guns in their hands, their eyes locked in a deadly standoff. And then I saw Sean lying on the ground, motionless, in a pool of blood.
“Sean—!” I tried to scream, but my voice caught in my throat, strangled by the fear that gripped me.
“Rose, stay back!” my father commanded, his voice rougher than I’d ever heard it. “Sean is dead because of him. It’s not safe for you here. Leave—now!”
The words hit me, knocking the air out of my lungs. Sean wasdead. My father wanted me to leave, but I couldn’t. I couldn’teven move. My legs felt like they were made of lead, my feet glued to the floor as I stared at the men in front of me.
Max’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something in them that broke me—a plea; a desperate hope I wouldn’t believe the words my father told me; that I’d see Max for who he really was. There was no anger in his gaze, no malice, just a silent, aching need for me to understand. But then I looked at my father—the man who’d raised me, who’d always been there to protect me—and I saw the same determination, the same urgency, as he tried to get me back to safety, away from Max.
Neither of them lowered their guns. The room was a pressure cooker, seconds away from exploding, and I was trapped in the middle, torn between two men who meant a lot to me.
My father continued to yell at me to get out, his voice rising with desperation, but Max still didn’t say a word. He just stood there, his gaze locked on mine, his silence speaking volumes.
Why hadn’t he tried to defend himself? Why wasn’t he shouting, denying my father’s accusations, begging me to believe him? The questions swarmed my mind like bees in a hive, each one more painful than the last.
If Max was innocent, shouldn’t he be defending himself? If he wasn’t innocent ... why was he looking at me with such sadness—such regret?
My heart felt as stiff as stone, overwhelmed by fear, confusion, and something else I couldn’t quite name. I wanted to believe Max wasn’t capable of this, to trust the man I’d grown to care for wasn’t capable of this, but the sight of Sean’s lifeless body on the ground was a reminder he was more than capable. In fact, he’d killed the past three men in my life—what was stopping him from doing it again now?
“Rose, please.” My father’s voice broke through my thoughts, softer now, almost pleading. “You need to get out of here.”
But I still couldn’t move. I couldn’t leave—not when I didn’t know the truth. Not when I didn’t understand what had happened. My eyes flicked between Max and my father, the two men who demanded my loyalty and my trust, and I realized with a sickening dread that I’d have to choose.
The choice I had to make wasn’t just between two men; it was between two versions of reality. Two truths that couldn’t coexist. How could I possibly choose?
Max watched me carefully, and in that moment, I saw the truth—not in words, but in the way he looked at me. The way he stood there, silent. He wasn’t going to defend himself, because he knew nothing he said would change what had happened. He wasn’t shouting or pleading, because he knew the decision wasn’t his to make.
It was mine.
Max was leaving the choice up to me. He was letting me decide who I believed; who I trusted.
“I will be needing your trust. This is all pointless without it.”
His words echoed in the back of my mind. He’d never demanded my love; he’d wanted to earn it. Max had wanted me to choose him. He’d been clear about that since the beginning.
My father was too far gone, too blinded by his hatred and fear of the Romanos, to see reason. If I wanted to save Max, I had to be careful. I had to make it look like I was choosing my father.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look away from Max and focus on my father. As I took a step toward him, I saw the relief in his eyes. But it wasn’t the look of relief I was hoping for. This one looked like a victory. Smug victory, as if he’d known I’d trust him, like I always had.
Did my father believe he was protecting me—that this was what I wanted? The idea he could be doing this out of some twisted sense of love made my stomach churn. How could love feel so suffocating?
