I pressed the barrel into Clara’s palate.
Her mind went blank, nearly fainting from terror.
“I’ll give you three seconds…”
“Three…”
Faster than the countdown was Adrian’s move.
He twisted Harris’s arm, pressing the gun to his temple.
For Clara, Adrian dared to threaten my man.
A man who had raised me, prepared everything for me, practically like my own uncle.
Fury tore through me. “Let him go, Adrian!”
His jaw tightened, unable to meet my eyes.
“Give Clara back to me.”
“Please, Coco.”
Even at that moment, he still called me by my nickname.
Was it to make me feel even more disgusted?
I forced down the surge of hatred in my gut and leveled the gun at Clara’s left leg from the small of my back.
With a bang, blood sprayed across my cheek.
Ignoring the red haze in my eyes, I roared,
“Adrian, you know exactly how insane I am!”
“I swear, if you lay one more finger on Harris, she’ll die even worse!”
My finger rested on the trigger. I watched Adrian’s startled gaze and smiled.
I was betting he’d relent—beg for peace.
But the moment I yanked Clara by the hair,
a bullet tore through the palm of my right hand.
The drilling pain flooded my brain a breath too late.