Chapter 237

The gunshot’s echo had barely faded when Siena realized Declan had stopped breathing in her arms.

“Declan!” Her scream tore through the abandoned factory like a blade, raw and guttural, echoing off the rusted metal walls and broken skylights. Blood poured from the gunshot wound in his chest, hot and slick, soaking her torn hoodie and pooling on the concrete beneath them. Brock lay dead a few feet