Chapter 48
“She is technically dead.”
The words sink in slowly. I clutch my hands together. My feet turn cold, my heart goes numb, and no thoughts pass through my mind. A silence settles in -a kind of silence where your mind refuses to hear anything else.
“Mila…”
“Mila…”
“Mila!”
The beeping of the heart monitor grows louder, jolting me back, and my eyes snap to Killian.
“Can you hear me?”
I nod, but even that feels difficult. It’s as if someone has placed a stone inside my skull, stopping my brain from functioning properly.
“Listen to me.” His voice is firm, commanding. He holds my face in his hands, his gaze drilling into mine. I swallow, but my throat is dry. My eyes feel dry too. I feel like a bystander, disconnected from my own body.
And then, I notice something I never have before–Killian’s eyes. Sometimes, they resemble dark stones, their depth,capable of swallowing me whole. Why didn’t I realize how expressive they are? Beautiful eyes. Devastating eyes.
“Hold on to yourself. It’s going to be hard, and the battle isn’t over yet.”
Battle? What battle?
Everything I’ve done, all my perseverance, all my endurance–was it all for nothing?
“She’s still here?” I finally find my voice. It comes out hoarse, foreign, as if I’ve never spoken before. As if I’ve never felt before.
Killian is silent for a moment, searching my face.
“Yes,” he finally answers.
“Can I see her?”
He nods.
“She’s still on life support,” he says, helping me sit up. A nurse rushes in, steadying me on the other side. Once find my balance, I let go of their hands. The nurse moves to wheel the IV stand, but I stop her with a look.
I rip out the tubes myself.
“But ma’am-”
I glare at her, and whatever protest she had dies in her throat.
Instead, I start pulling off the remaining wires. “I want to get dressed.” I turn to Killian.
“If you do this now, your health-”
“My health isn’t the issue here, Mr. Knight.”
His head tilts slightly, and his expression hardens. “Your clothes are over there.”
1/4
10:45 Fri, 11 Jul G.
Chapter 48
He gestures to the door. I enter the small, clinically clean bathroom. The mirror reflects a pale face, unbound hair, hollow eyes, dry lips. A stranger. The clothes on the counter are a simple black T–shirt and trousers. I put them on, tying my hair into a ponytail.
Those eyes. Maybe whoever has them is destined to have no soul.
I clench my jaw.
When I step out, Killian is waiting.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” His voice is gentle, coaxing, anchoring. But I think I’m too far gone.
“I want to see my mother. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
He steps aside, and I walk past him. The corridors are plain white, illuminated by soft overhead lights. After a few minutes, he turns to a door and knocks. Someone opens it, but I don’t look at them. I step inside.
It’s identical to my own room–sterile, simple. She lies there, peaceful and lifeless. Machines beep steadily, tubes snaking around her frail body. I’ve seen her like this through security cameras, but in person, she’s just a wisp of what she once was.
I don’t even have a picture of her.
She’s been gone for a long time–only her laughter remains in my memory.
“What now?” I ask.
“The doctor said the only thing left is to free her.”
“She’s trapped?”
“Yes.”
I look up and down, scanning her fragile form. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this lifeless shell wasn’t it. My gaze drifts to the plug on the table
beside her.
“You can take your time,” Killian says.
I step closer, leaning over to see her face properly in the light. I raise a hand to touch her but stop. I can’t even feel her warmth.
I don’t remember what it felt like to touch her.
There’s nothing to think about.
I look at the plug–and pull it.
The noise stops. The heart monitor goes silent.
For a brief moment, as the light shifts across her face, I think I see a flicker of a smile.
And then, she’s gone for good.
The room falls into stillness.
“Now, you’re free,” I whisper.
“Mila.”
I turn. Killian is watching me carefully.
“She was dead anyway. Let her be dead,” I say, walking out.
2/4
10:45 Fr, 11 Jül GO
Chapter 48
“Mila, stop.” His voice follows me.
“What happened to Tommen and Christen Meng?” I ask, turning back to him.”
“Tommen escaped after I got the alert about you.”
“And Adeline? Francesca?”
“All of them are under house arrest.”
I nod. “They’re in Anderson Mansion?”
“Yes.” His eyes study me carefully.
“Where’s my bag?”
“In my office.”
“Lead the way, please.” I extend a hand, motioning for him to move.
His jaw tightens, but he turns and walks.
The plain white halls start to change. Colors seep in after a few turns. Paintings appear on the walls. The floor shifts underfoot. At the end of the hallway, double doors stand tall. Killian pushes them open, revealing a different world entirely–a room.
He walks to a cabinet beneath a shelf and pulls out my familiar gray bag,
I take it, set it on the desk, and unzip it. My fingers find what they’re looking for. The gun.
I check it. Five bullets.
The click of the magazine sliding back into place is satisfying.
Killian moves in front of me, his hand covering mine. “Now, I have to stop you here.”
I meet his gaze, indifferent. “Why?”
“If you want someone gone, it can be arranged.”
“No need. Doing it myself is more my thing.” My grip tightens around the gun, fury burning through my veins.
1 rip open the door and march outside:
The moment I reach the end of the hallway and turn-
“Surround her.”
Killian’s command rings out.
Heavy footsteps thunder toward me. Men. Women. Armed.
I turn back to their boss.
“What are you going to do? Imprison me?” I arch an eyebrow.
“Love, maybe you should rest. We’ll think of a proper punishment for them later.”
I exhale sharply, a bitter laugh. “I’m sorry if you’ve misunderstood my intentions. There’s no trial. No punishment. There’s going to be an execution.
3/4
10:45 Fri, 11 Jul
Chapter 48
I raise my gun, pointing it at him.
instantly, every Knight behind me raises theirs. The hallway fills with the sharp clicks of safeties being disengaged.
“You can step aside,” I say. “Or you can share their fate.”
Killian smirks. Slowly, he steps toward me.
I clench my jaw as he comes close–too close. The barrel of my gun presses against his chest.
He reaches up, wrapping his fingers around the muzzle.
“Do it here,” he murmurs.
