At that moment, Fiona’s world imploded. With a primal howl that tore from the depths of her soul, she hurled herself at Katelyn. “You wretched bitch! How dare you lay a hand on my father?! I’ll kill you!” Even though her father favored her brother Marco, he had still treated her well. She had grown up wanting for nothing—wealth, nobility, and prestige had been her birthright, paving the way for a life most could only dream of. But now, Katelyn had stripped everything away in one blood-soaked moment!
A primal rage consumed Fiona, her only desire to rip this woman limb from limb with her bare hands.
Katelyn’s mocking laugh sliced through the tension. “Why don’t you take a good look at who actually shot him?”
Fiona froze. She fixed Katelyn with a wild stare, her voice trembling. “What do you mean?!”
Chester clung to the edges of consciousness, his ashen hand rising with agonizing slowness to point an accusing finger at Fiona. Life drained from his face like water through sand. “How… how could…” Each syllable emerged as a ghostly whisper, wrenched from the last reserves of his fading strength. “You shot me…”
Words he might have added died on his lips as the cold began to claim him. A second later, Chester slumped forward, the final spark of life extinguished.
Something fundamental shattered within Fiona. Her cry pierced the air—raw, animal, dripping with anguish. “Dad!!”
She scrambled to his side, gathering his cooling body against her chest, her words dissolving into broken fragments between sobs. “You can’t die, Dad! You can’t!”
How could she not know now? Fiona’s fingers quivered as they traced the fatal wound on Chester’s chest, the terrible truth slowly crystallizing in her mind.
How could it be? Her father… had died by her own hand. No. No, this couldn’t be real!
Fiona’s eyes were wide with disbelief as she looked down at the jagged lacerations on Chester’s arm, deep enough to expose the ghostly white of bone beneath. Her breath caught in her throat. This was a nightmare, one she couldn’t wake from.
Her mind raced, and rage surged through her veins. She had to avenge him. She had to kill Katelyn—this cold-blooded murderer!
Hatred blazed in Fiona’s eyes as she whirled toward Katelyn, her voice sharp, dripping with venom. “I’ll kill you!” With desperate resolve, she raised her weapon, the barrel aimed directly at Katelyn’s unflinching face.
But as her finger squeezed the trigger—Bang! The shot echoed, but it wasn’t Katelyn who crumpled to the ground. It was Fiona.
Her eyes widened in shock as she looked down at the perfect crimson circle blooming on her chest. The weight of her actions hit her like a physical blow. Her anger, once so fierce, was snuffed out in an instant, leaving only a deep, painful emptiness.
Fiona’s body folded inward, collapsing to the cold concrete. Her lifeblood pooled around her, merging with her father’s in a macabre reunion, staining the ground in a way she could never undo.
.
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