Chapter 7 - Blood on the Catwalk
Julian stood swaying on the catwalk, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead, clutching a heavy-caliber revolver with both hands. He had climbed the emergency fire pipe while they were focused on the floodgate below. His eyes were wide, dilated with shock and adrenaline, fixated entirely on Diana.
“You thought you broke me?” Julian screamed over the roar of the incoming river. “You think you can just step on me like a dog and walk away?”
Marcus fell to his knees, his hands pressing against the wound in his chest, Lily crying out as she scrambled to his side on the cold iron grating. “Mama!”
Diana stepped forward, putting herself directly between Julian’s gun and her daughter. She didn't look at the barrel pointed at her heart. She looked straight into Julian's trembling eyes. The emerald gown was soaked, clinging heavily to her frame, but she stood as immovable as a monument of stone.
“Put the gun down, Julian,” Diana said softly. The lack of fear in her voice seemed to infuriate him more than any weapon could have.
“Give me the girl,” Julian demanded, his voice cracking into hysteria. “My father will forgive this failure if I bring him the Sterling heir. Give her to me, Diana, or I’ll blow your heart out your back!”
“Look at you,” Diana said, taking a slow, calculated step forward. “A spoiled child playing with his father’s soldiers. You struck a five-year-old girl because you knew, deep down, that you couldn't stand against an equal. You are nothing.”
“I’ll shoot!” Julian shrieked, his finger tightening on the heavy trigger.
Diana didn't back down; she closed the distance. “Then shoot. But you’d better kill me with the first round, Julian. Because if you don't, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.”
Julian’s resolve cracked under the absolute, terrifying stillness of her gaze. His hand shook violently. He pulled the trigger.
The hammer fell, but Diana had already shifted her head by two inches. The bullet grazed her cheek, leaving a thin line of red that instantly mixed with the rainwater. Before Julian could recover from the recoil, Diana closed the remaining space in a blur of emerald silk.
She grabbed Julian’s wrist, twisting it outward with a sickening crunch that shattered his radius. Julian screamed as the revolver tumbled into the roaring water below. Diana didn't stop. She drove her palm directly into his nose, shattering cartilage, then seized him by the lapels of his ruined tuxedo, driving him back against the safety railing.
The metal groaned under their combined weight. Julian hung halfway over the abyss, staring down into the violent, churning black water fifty feet below, where crushed cars floated like debris.
“Please,” Julian sobbed, all arrogance vanishing into pathetic terror. “Diana, please... don't.”
May you like
Diana leaned in close, her whisper cutting directly into his ear through the storm. “You will never touch her again.”
She opened her hands.
