Ferraro's grip on my arm was ironclad, his hand cold as steel as he yanked me forward. My mind raced, panic coursing through me, but my feet felt frozen to the floor. Ava's whimpering cries cut through the haze in my mind, grounding me to the reality of the moment—Ferraro had me, and William was injured, bleeding from the gunshot wound.
"Let her go!" William growled through gritted teeth, trying to stand despite the pain that was pulling him down.
Ferraro's eyes flicked to William, a cold smile curling on his lips. "You're in no position to make demands, William. This game is over."
I twisted in Ferraro's grip, trying to wrench myself free, but he tightened his hold, pulling me closer to him. His eyes glinted with triumph, but beneath that surface of control, I saw something darker. Ferraro wasn't just here for Ava—he wanted complete control over all of us, and he wouldn't stop until he got it.
