Without a look in the Abelli’s direction, Allister pulled a pistol from his jacket. Pop. The gunshot reverberated off the walls and rang in my ears. Everything but my heart went still. I stared, watched the Abelli slump from his chair to the floor. It was so quiet I could hear each drop of water falling from my dress to the concrete floor. Drip . . . drip . . . drip. A chill passed through me as Christian put the pistol away without a flicker of emotion. Tony Abelli wiped blood splatter from his face. Luca shook his head. Ace looked at his watch. “What the fuck, Allister?” growled Salvatore.
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