(Ayra's POV)
My breath hitched as I stared up at Nathaniel, my body frozen in shock.
The cold stone pathway beneath me sent a sharp jolt through my body as I lay there, breathless, frozen in terror.
My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out every other sound except for the ominous click of the gun being cocked.
Nathaniel stood over me, his tall frame shrouded in shadows, his eyes were dark, empty, like a bottomless abyss.
The cold night air felt even chillier against my skin as I lay on the ground, my ankle still throbbing in pain from the fall.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to steady my breath and remain calm.
"Nathaniel," I started, my voice coming out shakier than I had hoped.
"What… what are you doing? Why do you have a gun?" I asked, trying to sound confused and innocent, as though I had no idea what was happening.
But deep inside, I knew—this was it. He knew everything.
Nathaniel's lips curled into a cold smirk, his eyes narrowing.
