Skylar's grip tightened on the gun. The room was silent, waiting—watching. Chris had given her a choice, but had he really?
Ava stared at her, eyes steady. She didn't plead. She didn't beg. She was ready for whatever came next.
Chris leaned back against the pillows, the strain from his injuries evident, but his expression remained unreadable. "What's the hesitation, Skylar?"
Skylar swallowed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. This was it.
A test. A line. A moment that could never be undone.
She could feel Ethan's gaze on her, assessing, calculating. Cole, however, was watching Chris. The way his fingers twitched slightly. The way his eyes, despite his calm tone, held something deeper—something only Cole seemed to notice.
Skylar inhaled sharply. Chris was waiting for her to prove herself.
To prove she was his.
She raised the gun.
Ava exhaled softly but didn't look away.
Skylar's finger hovered over the trigger. One movement. One decision.
Then—
She turned the gun.
And pointed it at Chris.
The reaction was immediate.
Ethan's hand went to his holster. Cole didn't move. Chris, despite everything, barely reacted—except for the faintest twitch of his lips.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Skylar's voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly. "If you wanted her dead, you'd do it yourself."
Chris smirked, his expression darkening. "You think I won't?"
Skylar didn't answer.
Chris exhaled and slowly, carefully, swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements slow but deliberate.
"Ethan," he said.
Ethan tensed. "Yeah?"
Chris's gaze never left Skylar. "Take the gun from her."
Ethan hesitated. Just for a second.
Then—Skylar made her move.
A sharp inhale. A decision. A pull of the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the room.