Chapter 232 Stand Back Savannah There was a version of my life that existed before Roman. Sometimes, it felt like it belonged to someone else entirely. A girl who lived a life that was too easy. Who believed that life was permanent. Who thought love was soft and predictable and didn’t come with bloodstains you couldn’t scrub out no matter how hard you tried. Before Roman, my world was simple. Not perfect—but safe. I had never watched someone die. I had never smelled gunpowder or heard the deafening crack of a gunshot splitting the air. I didn’t know how heavy a weapon felt in your hands, how wrong it was to see one pointed at a human being and realize it only took a twitch of a finger to end a life. That sort of violence, back then, had been abstract. Something that happened to other people. Something on the news. Something distant. And then there was my life after Roman. After I fell in love with a man who seemed to carry death like a shadow behind him. Chaos followed us everywhere. It clung to him, bled into me. It clung to me, bled into him. He had killed for me. Pulled the trigger and ended a life because someone had hurt me deeply, because someone had crossed a line they never should have crossed. He had blood on his hands. Blood that he spilled in my name. And yet—despite the danger, despite the fear that now lived permanently under my skin—I would not trade this life for another. My happiness was tangled up in Roman. My future, my heart, my entire existence sat squarely beside his. Loving him meant accepting the darkness that came with him. With us. But there were moments like this one when reality struck so hard it stole the air from my lungs. Moments where someone died right in front of you. Moments where you wondered what kind of future could grow from this kind of soil. I saw Alyssa scream, the sound raw and piercing as she clamped her hands over her ears. “He’s dead!” Her voice snapped through the room, but I barely heard it. “I told you to get her out of my house, Jace!” Julius roared, his face red, his voice shaking with fury and fear.My eyes were locked on the guard’s face. He lay sprawled on the floor, his body twisted unnaturally, eyes wide and glassy as the light drained from them. One moment, he had been alive—breathing, talking, issuing orders. The next, he was nothing more than a corpse bleeding out on expensive flooring. I watched it happen. Watched the exact second his chest stopped rising. Paula had shot him. He had ordered her to drop the gun. He had spoken like he still had control. And she proved him wrong. Now she stood over his body, breathing hard, eyes wild as she swung the gun toward the other guard—the one whose weapon she’d stolen. “Anyone else want to give orders?” she snapped. Silence. It was like the world froze in that moment. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the air felt thick, heavy, suffocating. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it.Chloe sat perfectly still on the sofa. Too still. Her eyes were glued to the floor, to the gun lying just inches from the dead guard’s limp hand. His weapon had slipped from his grasp when he fell, skidding across the floor unnoticed. Everyone else had noticed Paula’s gun but Chloe had noticed the other one. A chill crawled up my spine. “Paula,” Roman said carefully, his voice calm but firm. “Drop the gun. Let’s talk.” She whirled toward him, fury blazing in her eyes as she pointed the gun straight at us. At him. At me. “Stand back,” she hissed. “One step forward and your little wife becomes a widow faster than she can say Jack.” Roman’s jaw tightened, a dangerous muscle ticking as I felt his body tense in front of me. I knew that look. I knew the way his mind worked when he calculated risk and violence. Fear sliced through me. I grabbed the back of his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric, silently begging him not to try it. Not to fight a gun with bravado like he had before. Not now. Not when Paula was this unstable. Italy had been different. This was desperation.Roman exhaled slowly, deliberately, forcing the tension from his shoulders. “Okay,” he said. “What do you want?” “I want answers, Roman!” Paula exploded, her voice breaking as she screamed. “I want to know which one of those cowards killed my father under your father's orders!” Her gaze darted around the room, landing on faces twisted with shock and fear. “Was it the Lawman?” she demanded, her eyes locking onto Julius. Julius glared back at her. “I don't know what you're talking about.” He knew. He knew one wrong word and he would be the next body on the floor. “Okay,” Roman said again, steady, grounding. “You want answers. You want revenge. I understand that. But this isn’t the way. Put the gun down. We can talk. We agreed to work together, didn’t we?” “Put the gun down, Lydia,” Jace said softly. “Please. You’re going to hurt someone else.” She turned toward him, her expression twisting with betrayal and pain. “You promised me, Jace,” she said, her voice cracking. “You said you’d help me. You said you’d help me take down the General—”“Yes,” Jace said quickly, stepping in front of Mom, shielding her without even thinking about it. “And I will. I promised you, and I intend to keep that promise. I’ll make sure you get justice. You and me, Lydia.” He held her gaze, unwavering. “So please,” he continued gently, “put the gun down. Okay?” For a moment, everything else faded. The room, the blood, the bodies—it all disappeared as Paula stared at him, her eyes glassy, her chest heaving. It was like they were alone in that space, locked in some silent conversation the rest of us couldn’t hear. And somehow… It was working. Paula’s grip on the gun loosened. Slowly, painfully slowly, she lowered it, never breaking eye contact with Jace. As if he was the only person who saw her. The only one who understood her grief. And surprisingly, a pang of jealousy hit me. Jace stepped forward, careful, his hand outstretched. “Give me the gun, dear,” he murmured. “We’ll fix this. I promise.” She swallowed hard. “You promise?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes,” he said, glancing briefly at the body on the floor before looking back at her. “I promise.” Relief flooded the room. I saw Mom sag slightly, her shoulders dropping as she released a breath she’d been holding. Alyssa stood frozen, her face pale as she stared at the spreading pool of blood, eyes unfocused. Paula placed the gun into Jace’s hand and he pulled her into a hug. Julius groaned. I saw him roll his eyes and mutter something. And then the gunshot rang out. For a split second, I didn’t understand what had happened. The sound echoed in my ears, sharp and deafening, rattling my bones. I wouldn’t have known who was shot… If not for the blood. It seeped from the corner of Paula’s mouth, dark and shocking against her pale skin. Her eyes widened in surprise, confusion flickering across her face as her chin still rested on Jace’s shoulder. Still in the hug. Her body went slack. Jace stiffened, his arms tightening around her instinctively as her weight sagged against him. “No,” he breathed, horror ripping through his voice. And a scream tore from my throat, raw and piercing, as the room erupted into chaos once more.