The sound of gunfire ricocheted through the hall, screams and chaos erupting in waves. Axia stumbled backward, her heart racing as the weight of Andrew’s betrayal pressed down on her chest. His smile—cold and calculating—was the only thing she could focus on, burning itself into her mind like a cruel joke.

“Run,” Preston had told her. But where could she go? There was nowhere safe.

Andrew leaned close, his voice steady amidst the panic. “Stay by my side, Axia. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Her legs felt like lead, her chest constricted with disbelief and pain. “Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

Andrew's expression softened, but the malice in his eyes remained. “Don’t act surprised, Axia. You knew something was off all along, didn’t you? Or were you really that naive?”

Her vision blurred with tears. She had ignored the signs—the unexplained phone calls, his uncanny interest in her father’s affairs, the occasional slip of his polished mask. She had convinced herself that love could explain it all.

“I loved you,” she said, her voice cracking.

Andrew scoffed. “Love? You were nothing more than a means to an end. Did you really think someone like me would fall for someone like you?”

The words cut deeper than any weapon could. Axia staggered back, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces. Four years of laughter, of promises, of whispered dreams—it had all been a lie.

Andrew grabbed her wrist, his grip firm and unyielding. “You’re coming with me,” he said coldly.

“No!” Axia yanked her arm free, anger bubbling beneath her grief. “You don’t get to do this to me!”

“Don’t be stupid,” Andrew snapped. “Your father is as good as dead. If you cooperate, I might let your brothers live.”

Her blood ran cold. The thought of her family—the only people who had ever truly cared for her—being slaughtered because of her naivety was unbearable.

---

Axia’s mind raced as Andrew began dragging her through the chaos. Preston was nowhere to be seen, and the armed men had taken control of the hall, corralling the guests into terrified clusters. The elegant evening had transformed into a nightmare.

As they moved toward the exit, Andrew’s assistant, Victoria, appeared, her face twisted with a smug grin. “The old man’s been neutralized,” she reported. “The enforcer is still unaccounted for, but the perimeter is secured.”

“Good,” Andrew said. “Let’s wrap this up.”

Victoria’s gaze shifted to Axia, her smirk widening. “You still carrying this dead weight?”

Axia glared at her, her fists clenched. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, but I do,” Victoria taunted. “You’re a pampered little princess who thought she could play house with a man like Andrew. Pathetic.”

Andrew tightened his grip on Axia’s arm. “Enough, Victoria. She’s still useful.”

The way he said it, as if she were a pawn in his game, made Axia’s stomach churn. The man she had loved—the man she had planned a future with—was a stranger.

---

As they neared the ship’s main deck, a loud crash echoed behind them. Axia turned to see Preston emerging from the shadows, his gun drawn, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Let her go,” he ordered, his voice like steel.

Andrew laughed, shoving Axia in front of him like a shield. “Ah, the loyal dog. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

“Don’t test me,” Preston growled, his aim unwavering. “You know how this ends.”

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Axia’s heart pounded as she looked between the two men, torn between fear and fury.

“You won’t shoot,” Andrew said confidently. “Not with her in the way.”

Axia’s voice trembled as she finally found her strength. “Let me go, Andrew.”

He ignored her, his focus on Preston. “You’re outnumbered, Marino. Walk away while you still can.”

Preston smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You think I care about the odds? You made one mistake, Dawson. You underestimated what happens when you mess with Salerno blood.”

---

The tension snapped like a taut wire. Preston fired a shot, narrowly missing Andrew, who shoved Axia to the ground and dove for cover. The deck erupted into chaos as armed men swarmed the area, their guns blazing.

Axia crawled to the side, her hands trembling as she tried to stay out of the line of fire. She could hear Preston’s voice barking orders, his movements calculated and precise.

Andrew’s voice rang out, laced with frustration. “Victoria, take her! Now!”

Before Axia could react, Victoria lunged toward her, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her to her feet.

“Time to say goodbye to your white knight,” Victoria sneered.

---

Axia’s anger flared. She wasn’t going to let herself be dragged around like a helpless doll anymore. She twisted in Victoria’s grip, driving her elbow into the other woman’s ribs. Victoria gasped, her hold loosening just enough for Axia to break free.

“Get back here!” Victoria shouted, reaching for her, but Axia was already running.

Her feet pounded against the deck as she weaved through the chaos, her mind a blur of emotions. She had to find Preston. He was the only person she could trust.

---

Preston was pinned behind a pillar, exchanging fire with Andrew’s men. His sharp eyes caught sight of Axia, and he motioned for her to stay low.

“Axia, get down!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

She dropped to the ground, crawling toward him. Her hands were scraped, her gown torn, but she didn’t care.

When she reached him, he grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not unkind. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t know, Preston. I swear I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softer. “But right now, we need to get you out of here.”

“How about Papa?”

“You don't need to worry about him. You alert us in the right time.”

Before they could move, Andrew’s voice echoed across the deck.

“Axia!”

She turned to see him standing on an upper platform, his gun aimed at her. His face was twisted with rage, the mask of charm completely gone.

“You think you can run from me?” he snarled. “You don’t get to leave, Axia. Not after everything I’ve done for you.”

Preston stepped in front of her, his gun trained on Andrew. “Touch her, and you die.”

Andrew laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. “You think you can protect her? You think she’s safe with you?”

He fired a shot, and Axia screamed as Preston shoved her aside, taking the brunt of the impact.

“Preston!” she cried, her hands shaking as she scrambled to his side. Blood seeped through his jacket, but his eyes remained locked on Andrew.

“Run,” Preston whispered, his voice strained. “Now.”

Axia’s heart broke as she looked into his eyes, the man who had always been there for her, who had taken a bullet to save her. But she couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

“Axia,” Andrew called, his voice mocking. “Make your choice. Stay with him and die, or come with me and live.”

Her breath caught, her mind spinning as she realized the impossible decision before her.

Axia’s chest heaved as Andrew’s mocking words echoed in her ears. “Make your choice. Stay with him and die, or come with me and live.”

But he didn’t know her. Not really. He thought she was the spoiled, sheltered daughter of a mafia boss. He thought her strength ended where her privilege began.

He was wrong.

Axia’s trembling fingers brushed against Preston’s bloodied shoulder. “Hold on,” she whispered, her voice steely despite the panic threatening to consume her.

Preston’s lips curled into a weak smile. “You don’t... have to do this.”

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with determination. “Yes, I do.”

Rising to her feet, Axia surveyed the chaos around her. Andrew’s men were scattered, some pinning guests against the walls, others locking down the exits. Andrew stood on the upper deck, his gun trained on her, his lips curled into a smug smile.

Axia’s mind raced as she calculated her next move. The years of being coddled and protected had also been years of preparation. Her father and brothers had insisted she learn to defend herself—just in case. Knife skills, firearms training, hand-to-hand combat—all of it flooded back to her now.

She spotted a fallen guard a few feet away, his holster glinting in the low light. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward him, her heart pounding in her ears.

Andrew’s voice cut through the chaos. “Stop her!”

One of his men lunged at her, but Axia sidestepped, grabbing a champagne bottle from a nearby table and smashing it over his head. He crumpled to the floor, and she dove for the gun.

The cool metal felt foreign in her hands for a moment, but muscle memory took over. She released the safety and stood, her stance steady as she aimed at the approaching group.

“Back off!” she shouted, her voice carrying an authority she didn’t know she had.

The men hesitated, glancing at each other uncertainly.

Andrew’s laugh rang out from above. “You don’t have it in you, sweetheart. Put the gun down before you hurt yourself.”

Axia’s jaw tightened. He still thought she was weak. Good. Let him underestimate her.

She fired a warning shot into the air, the sound reverberating through the deck. The men flinched, stepping back, but she didn’t give them time to regroup.

With swift precision, she took out the closest one, her shot grazing his arm and sending him sprawling. Another rushed at her, and she ducked under his swing, slamming the butt of the gun into his temple.

Her movements were fluid, instinctive. For the first time, she understood what it meant to be Salerno blood.

Victoria appeared, her face twisted with rage. “You think you can play hero, Axia? You’re out of your depth!”

Axia turned to face her, her eyes cold. “Try me.”

Victoria lunged, her knife flashing in the dim light. Axia sidestepped the attack, grabbing a fallen chair and using it to block Victoria’s next strike.

The two women clashed in a brutal dance, their movements sharp and deadly. Axia’s training kicked in, her mind focused on every move, every opening.

Victoria sneered. “You think Daddy’s lessons make you tough? You’re nothing but a scared little girl!”

Axia countered with a swift kick, sending Victoria staggering. “And you’re nothing but a bitter shadow.”

Preston’s voice broke through the haze. “Axia... behind you!”

She spun just in time to see another attacker charging at her. Grabbing Victoria’s fallen knife, she flipped it in her hand and threw it with precision, the blade embedding itself in his shoulder.

The man collapsed with a groan, and Axia turned back to Victoria, who was now struggling to her feet.

“Give it up,” Axia said, her voice steady. “You’ve lost.”

But Victoria laughed, blood trickling from her lip. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about winning. This is about sending a message.”

From above, Andrew’s voice cut through the moment. “That’s enough, Victoria. Let me handle her.”

Victoria smirked, retreating to the shadows as Andrew descended the stairs, his gun aimed directly at Axia.

He clapped slowly, his steps deliberate. “Impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Axia leveled her gun at him, her hands steady. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. But I know enough to see you’re not walking out of here alive.”

Her finger hovered over the trigger, her mind racing. She couldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let him destroy her family.

“Put it down, Axia,” Andrew said, his voice dripping with false charm. “You’re not a killer.”

Her grip tightened. “You don’t know what I am.”

The standoff felt eternal, the world narrowing to the two of them. Axia’s heart pounded as she considered her options, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

“Last chance,” Andrew said, his tone turning icy. “Drop it, or I drop you.”

Axia took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had to end this.

Before she could act, a gunshot rang out, the sound deafening. Axia flinched, expecting pain, but none came.

Andrew staggered, his eyes wide with shock as blood blossomed across his chest.

Preston stood behind him, his gun smoking, his face pale but determined. “Don’t... touch her,” he growled.

Andrew collapsed, his gun clattering to the ground.

Axia rushed to Preston’s side, tears streaming down her face. “You’re hurt.”

He gave her a faint smile. “It’s... nothing.”

She pressed her hands to his wound, her mind racing. “Stay with me, Preston. Please.”

But before she could say more, a voice rang out over the chaos.

“Hands where I can see them!”

Axia looked up to see a new group of armed men storming the deck. But these weren’t Andrew’s men. Their uniforms were familiar—too familiar.

Her heart sank as she realized who they were.

The Federal Agents!