My Skin on Her Back

I started to laugh.

“You want to die? I'll grant your wish!”

The click of a round being chambered sent a tremor through her body.

The next second, a throwing knife sliced through the air, burying itself in my arm.

I had never thought Julian would raise a hand against me for her.

The sharp pain made it almost impossible to hold the gun.

But I gritted my teeth, stubbornly refusing to let go.

Julian sighed and stepped forward, grabbing my hand. The sound of my wrist bone shattering was sickeningly crisp.

“Gianna, I told you, I won't give you another chance to hurt her!”

“Behave. I'll come back and explain everything after the baby is born.”

The gun clattered to the floor with a harsh sound.

I clutched my injured arm and gave a wretched smile.

“Julian, don't bother. I said I would step aside.”

“Just sign the papers, and we can let each other go.”

Julian took half a step back and shook his head.

His gaze was firm, yet held a sadness I couldn't comprehend.

During the stalemate, a loud thud suddenly came from behind him.

The girl, her back to him, clutched her belly and sank to her knees.

Only then did Julian notice that her back was a sea of red.

With a trembling hand, he lifted her shirt, revealing two large, blood-red words carved into the raw flesh of her back.

“WHORE!”

I had carved them there myself before he burst in.

Julian stared at me in disbelief, his voice turning cold.

“Gianna, you're really insane!”

“How could you? How could you hurt her like this?”

I couldn't help but laugh.

“What made you think she could come here, provoke me without restraint, and walk away unscathed?”

“Julian, you know me. Carving just two words was me showing mercy, for your sake!”

The veins on Julian's forehead bulged. I knew he had reached his limit.

“Gianna, get on your knees, apologize to Sophia, and I can pretend this never happened!”

But why should I?

I'm the one who was hurt. Why should I be the one to apologize?

I sneered, picked up the fallen dagger, and lunged toward Sophia's belly.

In a flash, Julian snatched a gun from one of his Soldati, aimed it at me, and pulled the trigger.

Bang.

There was no pain of a bullet tearing through flesh.

I looked down. A tiny tranquilizer dart was sticking out of my chest.

As my consciousness faded, I managed a bitter smile.

In the end, Julian still didn't have the stomach for it.

If it were me, it wouldn't have been a tranquilizer.