The world around me faded. The sound of Richard’s voice was distant, drowned out by the pounding of my own heartbeat. Clara’s silence weighed heavier than any gun in my hand, heavier than any wound I had ever suffered.
She had lied to me.
Not once. Not in some small way.
But about him.
About this.
I took a step back, my grip tightening around my gun. “Tell me he’s lying,” I demanded, my voice rough, raw.
Clara flinched.
But she didn’t deny it.
She couldn’t.
Richard smirked, stepping closer. “Go on, Clara. She deserves the truth.”
She exhaled shakily, her eyes flickering between me and Richard. “Bela…”
“No,” I cut her off, my chest tightening. “No more Bela like I’m the one you love and trust. No more bullshit. Tell me the truth.”
Clara swallowed hard. “It’s complicated.”
I laughed, but it was bitter, hollow. “Of course it is.”
Richard chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of my unraveling. “You really should’ve done your homework, sweetheart.”
I ignored him, my eyes locked onto Clara. “How do you know him?”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
That hesitation told me everything I needed to know.
I took another step back.
“You were working with him,” I whispered, the words tasting like acid on my tongue.
“No!” she finally snapped. “Not like that! It’s not what you think—”
“Oh, really?” My laugh was sharp, venomous. “Because it sure as hell feels like you’ve been lying to me this entire time.”
Clara’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, I saw something flicker in her eyes—pain, regret.
Richard sighed dramatically. “I was hoping she’d be honest with you, but I guess some habits die hard.”
“Shut up,” I spat.
He smirked but continued, his voice smooth as silk. “Clara and I… we have history. She wasn’t always the saint she pretends to be.”
Clara tensed, but her silence spoke louder than words.
I felt like I was drowning.
Like the air had been ripped from my lungs.
“What did you do?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Clara’s eyes locked onto mine, wide, desperate. “Bela, please…”
I shook my head. “Tell. Me.”
She exhaled shakily. “Years ago… before I met you… I was involved in something I shouldn’t have been. Richard… I worked for him. But it wasn’t by choice.”
Richard smirked. “That’s one way to put it.”
My stomach twisted.
Clara had been part of his world?
She had been part of this?
Everything inside me screamed to run. To pull away. To protect myself.
But another part of me—one I wasn’t ready to admit existed—still wanted to believe her.
Still wanted her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice thick with betrayal.
She swallowed hard. “Because I knew you’d look at me exactly like you’re looking at me right now.”
And that’s when I realized.
She had been afraid.
Afraid of losing me.
But that didn’t erase the lies.
And it sure as hell didn’t erase the damage.
Richard sighed. “This has been fun, really. But I’m afraid I can’t let you just walk away.”
I snapped back into focus just in time to see his men moving in.
Marcelo and Leo were already raising their guns, ready for a fight.
And Clara…
She was looking at me like I was her last chance.
Like she knew I might never forgive her.
Like she knew this was it.
“Bela…” she whispered, stepping toward me.
And I let the last piece of my heart break.
I stepped back.
And lifted my gun.
But this time, it wasn’t pointed at Richard.
It was pointed at her.
Clara froze.
Everyone else did too.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t pull this trigger,” I whispered, my voice cold.
For the first time ever, Clara looked truly afraid.
Not of death.
Not of Richard.
But of me.
Richard’s laughter echoed through the room.
“Oh, this is priceless.”
I ignored him, my focus locked on Clara.
Her lips trembled. “Because you love me.”
My hands shook.
And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if that was enough.
The gunfire started before I could make a choice.
Leo was the first to move, tackling Marcelo behind cover as bullets ripped through the air.
I barely registered the chaos around me.
Richard’s men were shouting orders. Evelyn’s voice crackled in my earpiece, yelling something about an extraction route.
But I was still looking at Clara.
She had drawn her gun.
Not at me.
At Richard.
She fired.
The bullet grazed his shoulder, making him stumble back, a sneer twisting his face.
“You bitch,” he snarled.
Clara didn’t flinch. “I stopped being yours a long time ago.”
Something in Richard’s eyes darkened.
“This isn’t over.”
And just like that, he was gone.
His men scattered, disappearing into the shadows as the gunfire died down.
Marcelo cursed under his breath. “Son of a bitch had an escape plan.”
Evelyn’s voice came through again. “Get the hell out of there. Now.”
Leo groaned from the floor. “Agreed.”
But I couldn’t move.
Clara was still looking at me.
Waiting.
Hoping.
She had chosen me.
Hadn’t she?
Or had she just chosen to get rid of Richard?
The doubt ate away at me.
She stepped closer. “Bela…”
I shook my head. “Not now.”
She flinched like I had struck her.
But she nodded.
And without another word, we left the wreckage behind.
But I knew the truth now.
The war wasn’t over.
Not with Richard.
And not with Clara.