The sound of the gunshot still echoed in the room.
But no one moved.
Not at first.
Because no one expected him to still be standing.
Adrian let out a slow breath.
Almost amused.
Almost impressed.
He glanced down at the blood spreading across his side—dark, steady, real.
Then looked back up at Marcus.
"You've improved," he said quietly.
Marcus didn't respond.
His arm was still around Helena, holding her close—protective, solid, unshaken.
But his eyes—Cold.
Focused.
Ready.
Helena's fingers tightened slightly against Marcus's shirt.
"He's still standing…" she whispered.
"I see that," Marcus replied.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Which meant he was already thinking three steps ahead.
Adrian straightened fully now, ignoring the blood, ignoring the pain.
That alone was terrifying.
Because it meant one thing—He wasn't done.
Not even close.
"You had your chance," Adrian said.
A pause.
"And you missed."
Marcus's gaze darkened.
"I don't miss."
Adrian smiled faintly.
"No," he agreed.
"You hesitate."
Silence fell again.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Because that—That was the truth Adrian was betting on.
Helena felt it instantly.
The shift.
The moment the situation turned again.
"Marcus…"
Her voice was softer now.
Warning.
Because she saw it—The movement.
Too small for most people to notice.
But not for her.
Not anymore.
Adrian's hand.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Reaching behind him.
"Don't—"
Too late.
Adrian moved.
Fast.
Faster than before.
A second weapon—hidden—Raised.
Fired.
The shot rang out.
Louder this time.
Closer.
Helena gasped as Marcus pulled her down instantly.
The bullet missed—barely—Slamming into the wall behind them.
Marcus didn't wait.
Didn't hesitate.
He moved.
Explosive.
Relentless.
He pushed Helena behind him again.
"Stay down."
This time—She listened.
Because now—There was no room for argument.
Adrian fired again.
Marcus dodged, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
Another shot—Too slow.
Marcus reached him.
His hand slammed into Adrian's wrist, forcing the weapon aside.
A third shot fired—wild—Missing completely.
They collided again.
Harder this time.
More brutal.
More desperate.
Because now—There were no limits left.
Helena pushed herself up slightly, her heart racing as she watched them fight again.
But something was different this time.
Marcus wasn't holding back anymore.
Not even a little.
Every movement was precise.
Efficient.
Deadly.
He wasn't trying to win.
He was trying to end it.
Adrian felt it too.
His smile faded.
His movements sharpened.
But it wasn't enough.
Not this time.
Marcus drove him back again—harder, faster—until Adrian slammed into the wall with a heavy impact.
The air left his lungs in a sharp exhale.
Marcus didn't stop.
Didn't slow.
His fist connected again—Once.
Twice.
A third time—
"Marcus—stop!"
Helena's voice cut through the chaos.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Something else.
Something deeper.
Marcus froze.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Adrian saw the opening.
Of course he did.
He always did.
He moved instantly.
A sharp strike—A twist—And suddenly—Everything shifted again.
Marcus staggered back slightly.
Just one step.
But Helena saw it.
The blood.
Fresh.
Dark.
Her breath caught.
"Marcus—!"
He didn't respond.
Didn't even look at her.
His focus stayed locked on Adrian.
But now—There was something new.
Something dangerous.
Something irreversible.
Adrian straightened again, breathing heavier now, but still standing.
Still fighting.
Still smiling.
"You see?" he said quietly.
A pause.
"You can't protect everything."
Helena's chest tightened painfully.
No.
Not again.
Not like this.
Her gaze dropped.
The fallen gun.
Still on the floor.
Too close.
Too important.
Her mind snapped into place.
Fast.
Clear.
Decisive.
Before either of them could react—Helena moved.
She lunged forward—Grabbing the gun.
Her hands trembled—but her grip was firm.
"Stop!"
Her voice cut through the room.
Both men froze.
Instantly.
Helena stood there—Between them.
Gun raised.
Pointed.
Steady.
Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through her chest.
But her hands—Didn't shake.
Not anymore.
"This ends now," she said.
Her voice was quiet.
But unshakable.
Marcus stared at her.
Something unreadable in his eyes.
"Helena…"
Adrian, on the other hand—Smiled.
Slow.
Dangerous.
"Are you going to shoot me?" he asked softly.
A pause.
"Or him?"
The question hit like a knife.
Because that was the game.
That was always the game.
Choice.
Pressure.
Breaking point.
Helena's grip tightened.
Her gaze hardened.
"You don't get to ask that," she said.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Final.
Because everyone in that room knew—Whatever happened next…
There was no going back.