The cold wind hit my face as I stood paralyzed before the freshly dug grave.
Every nerve in my body screamed in terror, my mind replaying every warning, every cold word Bruno had ever said to me.
I couldn't remove my eyes away from him, not with the gun he held in his hand.
I took a shallow, trembling breath, my voice barely escaping my throat as I whispered.
"Bruno… please… don't do this."
He met my gaze with a hardened stare, his face unreadable, void of any mercy.
"Maria," he said slowly, voice as cold as ice, "you've been stepping out of line, over and over again."
Each word was a knife to my chest, the weight of his accusations pressing down on me.
I knew I had pushed him, that I'd crossed boundaries trying to earn his attention, but I never thought it would come to this. Not here. Not like this.
