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CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SEVEN
RICHARD’S POV

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as the bang reverberated through the room. For a second, everything was still. Silent.

I looked down. Blood.

Not mine.

William gasped, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the wound in his side. The gun slipped from his hand, clattering uselessly to the floor.

I stumbled back, hands slick with blood, heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to explode. The sound of the gunshot kept echoing in my ears like a bad dream, but this wasn’t a dream. William—my brother—was bleeding out on the floor.

“Shit,” I gasped, rushing toward him. “Will… Goddamn it, stay with me!”

His face was pale, eyes half-closed as he struggled to breathe. Blood poured from his side, seeping through my fingers as I pressed down hard. Too hard. It didn’t matter. “You’re gonna be fine. Hear me? You’re gonna be fine. Just hold on.”

He coughed, a weak, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Richard… you always… always screw things up, don’t you?”

“Shut
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