Chapter 50 THE STANDOFF
Chapter 50 THE STANDOFF
POV: Selena
I want Thomas to look at me instead of Adrian.
The gun is aimed at Adrian’s chest, steady enough to be lethal, unsteady enough to terrify me. My lungs feel locked. I want air, but more than that, I want time. Just a few more seconds before something irreversible happens.
“Thomas,” I say, keeping my voice low. “You do not want to do this.”
His eyes flick to me for half a second. That is enough to know he hears me. It is not enough to know if it matters.
“Stay where you are,” he snaps, tightening his grip. “Both of you.”
Adrian does not move. He does not raise his hands either. He stands half a step in front of me, his body angled just enough to shield me without making it obvious. I hate him for that and love him for it at the same time.
Marcus’s hand hovers near his jacket. Thomas notices.
“Do not,” Thomas warns. “I will shoot him first.”
Marcus freezes.
The room smells faintly of polish and paper. A place built for calm decisions and polite power. It feels obscene now.
“Security is on the way,” Marcus says carefully. “You can still walk out alive.”
Thomas laughs, sharp and broken. “Alive for what? A cell? A trial where they parade my loyalty like a joke?”
“You chose this,” Adrian says.
Thomas’s jaw tightens. “I chose not to be discarded.”
My pulse beats loud in my ears. I shift my weight slightly, just enough to remind myself I can still move. My fingers brush the edge of the desk behind me. Solid. Grounding.
“Lower the gun,” I say. “Talk to us.”
“Talk?” Thomas snaps. “That is all I have done for twenty years.”
His hand shakes now. The barrel wavers between Adrian’s chest and his throat.
I step forward without thinking.
Adrian reacts instantly. “Selena, stop.”
I do not. I move to stand beside him instead of behind him. My heart slams so hard it hurts.
Thomas swears. “What are you doing?”
“Standing,” I say. “If you are going to pull the trigger, you will have to look at both of us.”
Adrian’s hand finds my wrist. His grip is tight. Protective. Furious.
“Do not,” he whispers.
I shake my head once. This is my choice.
Thomas breathes hard. Sweat beads at his temple. “You think this makes you brave?”
“No,” I say. “I think it makes you human.”
He flinches.
“You raised him,” I continue. “You helped build this family. If you kill him, there is nothing left of that.”
“There is nothing left anyway,” Thomas says. “Your father made sure of that.”
Adrian’s voice softens. “I would have fixed it if you had told me.”
Thomas laughs again, but this time it cracks. “You were a boy.”
“And now I am not,” Adrian says.
The distant sound of footsteps echoes in the hallway. Faint. Too slow.
Thomas’s eyes dart to the door. Panic flashes across his face.
“They are coming,” Marcus says. “Put the gun down.”
Thomas shakes his head. “I am not going to prison for him.”
His finger curls tighter around the trigger.
“If I go down,” he says, voice breaking, “I am taking you with me.”
Adrian does not move. He does not plead. He just looks at Thomas, steady and unflinching.
I feel something settle inside me. Fear, yes. But also clarity.
“Thomas,” I say quietly. “If you do this, your story ends here. That is all anyone will remember.”
He hesitates.
That hesitation is everything.
The door behind us opens.
“Thomas,” a woman’s voice says. “Put down the gun. Please.”
We all turn.
Victoria De Luca stands in the doorway, her face pale, her hands trembling. She looks older than I have ever seen her. Smaller. Not the political strategist or the senator’s wife. Just a woman watching her family fracture.
Thomas’s breath stutters. “Victoria?”
“I heard the alarm,” she says, taking one cautious step forward. “I knew it was you.”
“You should not be here,” he says.
“And let this happen without me?” Her voice breaks. “No.”
Adrian turns his head slightly. “Mom.”
She does not look at him. Her eyes stay on Thomas.
“You were part of this family,” she says. “You still are.”
Thomas’s gun dips a fraction.
“They will destroy me,” he says.
Victoria shakes her head. “You already did that yourself.”
Silence stretches, heavy and fragile.
I do not know how this will end.
I only know that the next breath could change everything.