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CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Cam

Debbie. She’s here .

Relief surges through me, sharp and overwhelming, but it’s quickly followed by a spike of fear. Debbie doesn’t know about Sandor. She doesn’t know what he’s done, what he’s risked to help me. If she sees him as just another cabal enforcer, she won’t hesitate.

She’ll take him out like the rest.

I glance back at Sandor. He’s still standing beside Dominic, his weapon in his hand. He’s not moving, not shouting.

Just waiting.

My stomach twists as I look up at the helicopter, the spotlight sweeping back to us for a moment before returning to Dominic’s boat.

The spotlight locks onto Dominic’s boat again, and then Debbie opens fire. The gunfire is sharp, precise, cutting through the chaos like a hot knife through cold butter. The driver of Dominic’s boat slumps forward, blood splattering across the windshield.

The boat jerks hard, swerving to the side, chaos breaking out on deck.

Dominic stumbles, grabbing for the wheel as the boat spins. His rifle slips from his hands, clattering to the deck, but he doesn’t stop. He’s scrambling, shouting orders, his voice raw and desperate.

The guards around him are panicking, their weapons forgotten as the boat rocks violently.

And then it happens.

Sandor steps forward, his movements calm and deliberate. His weapon is still in his hand, but this time, he raises it.

He points it directly at Dominic, his face unreadable.

Dominic turns to him, his eyes wide with shock. “WHAT THE FUCK?” he shouts, mouth twisting so strongly I can lip-read easily, his voice cracking.

The shot rings out, loud and final. Dominic jerks back, his body stiffening as the bullet hits him squarely between the eyes. For a moment, everything goes still. Dominic collapses to the deck, his body lifeless, the chaos around him fading into silence.

His final words a perfect end to a terrible man.

Sandor lowers his weapon, his face still calm. He looks up at the helicopter overhead, the spotlight still shining down on him, and pulls a white handkerchief from his pocket. He waves it high above his head, the gesture clear and deliberate.

He’s surrendering.

I grip the wheel, steering us away from the chaos, the roar of the engine drowning out everything else. Paigelynn sits up beside me, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock.

“Cam,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Did... did he just...?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice tight. “Sandor killed Dominic.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but I can feel her staring at me, her breath shaky. I don’t look back. I can’t. The burning compound fades into the distance, the waves crashing around us, the engine roaring beneath my feet.

Dominic is dead.

But I know better.

It’s not over yet.