He throws himself in front of me, his body slamming into mine and driving me backward. He roars something unintelligible.
And then the world explodes.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The gunfire seems never-ending. I squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face against Adrian's back, my hands still clutching the gun.
I hear shouting from Lucian, and then I hear bodies hitting the floor.
Finally, the gunfire stops.
The ringing in my ears returns, louder now, accompanied by the smell of gunpowder.
I force my eyes open, blinking through the haze of smoke that fills the office. It burns my throat, makes my eyes water, but I can't stop staring.
Four bodies lie on the floor.
Nicolae, slumped against the desk, and the three bodyguards sprawled across the floor at unnatural angles, weapons still clutched in their lifeless hands.
I glance up to see Lucian, Victor, and Matei gripping their pistols.
They didn't hesitate.
They chose Adrian and me over their father's men.
"Elena."
Adrian's voice breaks through the ringing, and he turns, reaching for me, his dark eyes searching my face.
"Elena, give me the gun."
I look down. It's still in my hands, my fingers locked around the grip.
"Elena," Adrian says again. "Let go. Give it to me."
Slowly, shakily, I release my grip. Adrian takes the gun, his fingers brushing mine as he gently pries it from my hands. He sets it on the desk behind him, then turns back to me.
And suddenly, the full weight of what I just did crashes into me.
I killed him. I murdered Nicolae Ionescu in front of his four sons.
I'm a monster. They're going to hate me.
"I'm sorry," I say, my voice cracking as tears form. "I'm sorry. I knew you were going to do it. You were going to do it, Adrian. I couldn't let you live with that. I couldn't let you kill your own father. I just couldn't."
The tears spill over, streaming down my cheeks. My whole body shakes, trembling so hard I can barely stand.
"I'm sorry," I sob again. "I'm so sorry."
Adrian doesn't say anything.
He just steps forward and pulls me tightly against his chest.
His grip is firm as he holds me together when I feel like I'm about to fall apart. He buries his face in my hair, his breath warm against my scalp.
"It's okay," he says, his voice low. "Shhh. It's okay."