Chapter 188: Take off your shirt

Nobody answered. His eyes moved to the blood at the corner of Sienna’s mouth. Then to her bare knees. Then to the torn silk of her pajamas.

His grip tightened around the weapon. "Tell me." He looked at each person standing there. "Tell me who I kill first." Sienna finally found her voice.

"Viktor..." He looked at her immediately. She shook her head. "I’m okay." His jaw tightened. "No, you’re not."

Before he could move toward her again, the door opened behind them. The gunfire had finally reached the rest of the house. Marcel appeared in the hallway, his shirt only half-buttoned. He stopped when he saw the scene outside.

A maid hurried out behind him, clutching her clothes against her chest. She froze when she saw Viktor and the bodies on the ground.

Marcel immediately raised both hands.

"Viktor." Viktor didn’t look at him. "Listen to me." Marcel stopped.

He slowly stepped outside, keeping his hands where Viktor could see them. "Nobody else needs to die." Viktor finally looked at him.

Marcel swallowed. He glanced toward the courtyard. Aliya stood completely still.

Whatever Sienna had done to her had left her unable to move. Her eyes were the only thing that shifted. Don Capri was in the same condition. Elena’s face was pale, her body rigid.

Simon was still struggling on the ground. Marcel looked at them, then back at Viktor.

Marcel took another careful step. "I’m asking you not to turn this into a massacre." Viktor’s eyes went to Sienna again.

She was standing several feet away, barefoot, bruised, and shaking despite how hard she was trying to hide it. Something in his face broke. He lowered the gun slightly.

"Did they hurt you?" Sienna hesitated. Her eyes flicked toward Aliya. Viktor followed her gaze. The softness disappeared from his face. His eyes settled on Aliya.

The courtyard went silent again. "She did this?" Sienna didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Viktor already knew, and this time he would make her pay with her life.

"Viktor, you don’t have to do this," Marcel spoke quickly, but he kept his voice controlled. "I’ll take them." Viktor’s eyes remained on him.

"I’ll take Aliya and Don Capri, and I’ll get them out of your house tonight." Marcel glanced toward the bodies on the ground before looking back at Viktor.

"But if you kill them here, this won’t end with them." His voice lowered. "It will become a bloodbath." Viktor’s jaw tightened.

Marcel took another careful step. "One you will not be able to control once it starts." For a moment, the only sound was Sienna’s breathing.

Marcel held Viktor’s gaze. "You don’t want that," Viktor said nothing.

Because Marcel was right about one thing. The moment those men had dragged Sienna out of her bedroom, something had changed. This was no longer a warning.

No longer a threat. The line had been crossed. And everyone standing in that courtyard knew it. Marcel turned toward the others.

"Get the van." One of the men ran toward the side of the property. Marcel went to Elena first. She was still standing rigidly, her eyes wide with panic.

"Marcel!" Her voice cracked. "I can’t feel my legs." Marcel crouched beside her. "Don’t move."

"Do something!"

"I am." He slipped one arm beneath her shoulders and another beneath her knees and lifted her carefully.

Elena cried out. "I can’t feel anything!"

"I heard you." Marcel carried her toward the van. "Please! Don’t leave me like this!" He placed her inside and looked briefly at her face.

"Stay still." Then he closed the door. He returned for Don Capri.

The older man was still conscious, but whatever confidence he had arrived with was gone. Marcel and another man lifted him between them and carried him toward the van.

Aliya was next. Her eyes followed Viktor. There was hatred in them. And fear. Marcel stopped in front of her. "Aliya." She couldn’t answer.

He sighed. Then he bent down and lifted her. She struggled weakly against him, but her body wouldn’t cooperate.

"Put me down!" Marcel ignored her. He carried her to the van and placed her beside Elena. Then he went back for the remaining guards. Simon was still on the ground.

His eyes found Sienna. For the first time, there was no confidence in them. Only disbelief. Sienna looked at him without saying a word. Marcel noticed the exchange but said nothing. He climbed behind the wheel.

The engine roared to life.

The van pulled away from the house, tires scraping against the pavement as it disappeared through the gates and into the darkness.

Sienna watched the taillights until they vanished. Viktor stood there, gun still gripped tight in his hands, watching them go. When he finally turned, his eyes landed on Simon, still frozen, still numb, left behind like an afterthought.

"I have always wanted to kill this bastard," Viktor said, raising the gun, aiming it squarely at Simon’s chest.

"No, Viktor." Sienna’s voice cut through the tension as she moved quickly to his side.

Viktor’s jaw was locked tight, his eyes still burning with something dark and unrelenting. He wasn’t in the mood to listen. Not tonight.

Sienna stepped closer and struck his chest twice, hard, trying to snap him out of whatever place his mind had gone to.

Simon, still unable to move properly, looked at her with something desperate in his eyes.

"Enna," he said, his voice cracking. "I only wanted to save you. To make up for my past mistakes. Lily meant nothing. It was just sex." He swallowed hard. "Remember all the promises we made to each other?"

For a moment, something flickered across Sienna’s face. A memory, maybe. An old ache she hadn’t fully buried.

"No," she said quietly, turning to Viktor instead. Not because Simon’s words hadn’t reached her but because some small, stubborn part of her still didn’t want him dead, even now. Even after everything.

"Take off your shirt," Sienna said suddenly, looking back at Simon.

"What?"

"Take off your shirt," she repeated, calm and deliberate.