Page 137 of Twisted Addiction

His composure broke completely—no mafia boss, no cold-blooded killer, just a man destroyed. “I’ll kill him,” he growled, his voice breaking. “I’ll kill your father, I’ll kill anyone who touches you—just stay with me!”

But I was already fading, my breaths shallow, my heartbeat slowing to a fragile flutter.

The pain dulled, replaced by a strange, beautiful calm.

My lips quivered.

“Mitya...” His childhood name. The one I used to whisper under the oak tree when he still smelled of summer and smoke, not gunpowder.

I gasped, the last bit of strength leaving my lungs.

Blood bubbled in my throat.

I forced a small, broken smile. “the... oak... tree...”

And then the darkness claimed me.