I still remember the day I had to throw away the sheep's clothing I wore around you. The day you saw the real devil in me for the first time. The day I dragged you into my world of chaos.

I can swear on your name, Ahen-I didn't enjoy a single second of it.

I still regret that it had to happen that way. If only we hadn't met. If only I hadn't let my feelings get the better of me.

"Ahen Lefevre. What is this?" Your mum's voice cut through the air like ice, piercing through the thick tension that hung between us. She had reached us behind the curtain, her tone a mix of confusion and alarm. I had just steadied your breathing, your panicked gasps finally easing, when her presence threatened to unravel it all.

You stirred, fear flashing across your face as you shuffled off the ground, your body trembling with the weight of everything that had just happened. My hand instinctively tightened around the weapon I had tucked in my belt. I stood in front of you, shielding you. I wasn't going to let her, or anyone, take you from me-not after everything we had been through to get this far.

Your mother stared, her eyes wide with disbelief. The ungrateful woman was about to ruin it all. She couldn't understand what you'd been through, what we had endured. And then I saw him-him-standing behind her. Timothy.

His sharp features, so familiar yet so despicable, twisted into a smug grin as his eyes met mine. His greying hair was neatly combed back, deep-set wrinkles etched into his forehead. His dark eyes gleamed with cruel amusement, the kind that made my skin crawl. He was dressed in a pristine navy suit, as though he had walked straight out of one of his high-powered meetings and into this nightmare.

His hands were clasped behind his back, the picture of arrogance and control. But his eyes-those cold, soulless eyes-were locked on you. My blood boiled. My father wanted this man dead.

"Get out of the way," your mother demanded, her voice trembling with an authority that wavered under pressure. She had no idea what kind of danger she was standing in. What kind of danger we were all in.

"No," I said quietly, but firmly. "Not happening."

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Timothy stepped forward, his voice smooth, dripping with condescension as he spoke. "You fit the rumours well, Swan Lombardy."

Oh, so he knew who I was. That made things simpler. My grip tightened around the weapon. I wouldn't hesitate if it came to that.

"You're protecting the wrong person," he sneered, his tone full of disdain. "He's not worth the trouble, and deep down, you know it."

I felt you shift behind me, your hands clutching at my shirt, tugging me back as if trying to stop me from doing something reckless. You wanted to run, I could feel it. But we both knew there was nowhere left to go.

"Maybe to you," I said coldly, "but he's worth everything to me."

Timothy's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something like curiosity crossing his face. "You're quite different from your father, Swan." I could feel your eyes on me, questioning, confused. You had no idea, did you? Neither did I, till it was too late, that the woman and child Timothy had taken under his wing were you.

He took another step closer. Then another. Shadows shifted behind him as more men emerged from the curtain, dressed in black, their faces expressionless. Security-or what passed for it here. This university had the worst of it, or perhaps it was just that they were on his payroll. I was in enemy territory, surrounded, the odds stacking higher against me with every step they took.

We were being driven back, closer to the wall behind us, with nowhere to go. I couldn't just stand there, cornered and waiting. So I pulled out the gun. I heard you gasp, your grip on my shirt disappearing as you stumbled back.

"Leave," I growled, my voice low and dangerous. "Now."

Timothy's smirk only widened, that sickening grin making my stomach churn. "You won't shoot me," he said, taking another step forward, his eyes gleaming with mockery. "You wouldn't want him to see your ugly side, would you?"

My jaw clenched, the rage simmering just beneath the surface. My hands were steady, but my heart thundered in my chest. He was wrong about one thing: it wasn't about hiding who I was from you anymore. In these few moments, you'd already seen more than I ever wanted you to. But I didn't want it to get worse. I didn't want you dragged into this nightmare.

"He's not coming with you. So, leave," I snarled, raising the gun just slightly, enough to let him know I wasn't bluffing. My finger hovered over the trigger. The weight of it, the cold metal pressing into my skin, was both comforting and terrifying. Every part of me screamed to pull it, to end him right here and now-but I couldn't. Not with you watching.

Your mother stood frozen, her face drained of all colour, her eyes flicking back and forth between Timothy and me. Disbelief mingled with terror in her expression. She turned to her beloved husband, her voice barely a whisper. "What is going on?"

"You think waving that around makes you the one in control?" Timothy stepped closer, his gaze sharp, his voice laced with venom. "You've always been reckless, Ahen. Always biting off more than you can chew."

"Try me," I shot back, my voice cold, my hand unflinching. "Go ahead and see what happens when you push too far."

Timothy's smirk faltered for a second, but then he leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to a sinister whisper. "You won't pull that trigger. You've got too much to lose, and you know it."

I took a step forward, closing the gap between us, the tension crackling like static. "Oh, you really wanna find out?"

Timothy's men began to shift uncomfortably behind him, sensing the tension. If he'd heard stories of how his men had met their end at my hands, he would've known how recklessly merciless I could be. And here he was, standing before me like a fool, taunting me. He wasn't wise to show his face to me now, not after everything. I didn't care if everyone in this room died tonight. All I cared about was making sure you were safe-from your mother's ignorance, and from this monster you called father.

"You wouldn't dare," Timothy hissed, his smile faltering, just slightly. He took another step forward, this time slower, more calculated, as if testing me.

"I said, leave," I repeated, louder, firmer.

For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. His eyes flicked to you, and then back to me, calculating, always calculating. He could see it, the conviction in my eyes, the madness that simmered behind them. A cold smile crept onto my face, and I sneered. I knew what I looked like when I did that-my peers used to say it was sinister, that it chilled the room. I wished I had a mirror to see myself right now.

The silence between us stretched on for what felt like hours, the tension thick enough to suffocate. I was ready-ready to pull the trigger if I had to, ready to end this if it meant keeping you safe.

"You're making a big mistake," Timothy growled, his voice now darker, more desperate. "If it's not me, it'll be your father to end him, once he knows who he is of course."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you," I sneered, the gun steady in my grip. "But I don't need your advice, Timothy. I handle my own mess."

His jaw tightened, his confidence cracking under the weight of my words. But he didn't back down immediately. We stared each other down, a silent war waged in the space between us. Finally, Timothy stepped back, his eyes still locked on mine, the threat clear in his voice as he said, "This isn't the end. Not by a long shot."

With a sharp motion, he signalled to his men. They began to retreat, slipping back into the shadows they had emerged from. I didn't lower the gun. Not yet.

Your mother's panic rose. "What? No! We're not leaving him here, Tim, what-"

"I'm not risking a fire that'll bring these buildings down just because you bred an ungrateful brat," Timothy snarled, his patience with her snapping.

"What?" she gasped, her voice high-pitched with disbelief. She looked at you, then back at him, her confusion mounting.

Timothy grabbed her by the arm, dragging her with him as he turned to leave. "Keep moving, woman."

Your mother stumbled, her protests barely coherent as he pulled her away. His footsteps echoed in the suffocating silence that followed, the heavy thud of his shoes marking each second as if counting down to the inevitable. I watched them disappear into the dark. I turned to you, watching as you trembled against the wall, your eyes wide and filled with questions. This wasn't over. Timothy would be back. And next time, there wouldn't be any hesitations.

"What just happened?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of confusion and fear.

"It's alright now. They're gone." At least for now.

"No, it's not. Nothing is right. You're a gunner?"

"A sniper-"

"What?" You took a step back, your eyes wide with disbelief. "Timothy only knows monsters. Are you one of them?"

I hesitated, the truth burning on my tongue. "So, you know who he is."

"Of course I do! We live under the same roof!"

"Ahen, I-"

"Tell me this is a joke!"

"It's not."

"You know my stepdad," you said, your voice cracking, the pieces clicking together in your mind. "You're one of them."

"Ahen-"

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Ahen, please-"

"Don't," you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "Don't justify it. You've lied to me."

"I didn't lie," I snapped, the pressure of everything boiling over. "I just didn't tell you everything because I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect me?" you echoed bitterly. "You dragged me right into the middle of this, Garret. My family, my life-am I just a joke to you?"

"Your family you say?" I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "Let's not talk about your mom and do you even know who your step dad really is? He's no better than me-or my father. And, newsflash, my father wants him dead. That's why I'm here."

Your face twisted, a mix of disbelief and betrayal. "Is that why you got close to me? To spy on him? To use me?"

"What? No!" I barked, the accusation hitting harder than any blow. "You happened before I even knew who he was to you. This wasn't some plan, Ahen. You weren't supposed to be part of this. But you are, and now I'm trying to keep you alive!"

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn't let them fall. "And here I was trying my best to keep you away from people like him," you said, your voice trembling. "But you're no different. You're one of them."

"Ahen, I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tasting like ash.

"You should be," you said quietly, the words cutting deeper than a scream ever could. Then, without another word, you turned and walked away.

I didn't stop you. I couldn't. What was left to say? I had shattered everything, and the weight of that realization settled over me like a suffocating fog.

I took you back to my apartment that night, but the silence between us was heavier than anything I'd ever carried. It wasn't the silence of anger; it was the silence of something breaking, something that might never heal.

You didn't look at me. You didn't speak. And I didn't dare try to explain.

This was the cost of my choices, the price of a world I had chosen to keep you from. But now, it had taken everything-taken you-and there was no going back.