Aria’s POV
"You know what’s funny?" Marcus kept the gun trained on but didn’t pull the trigger. "You should have stayed away from Damien, after he treated you like trash yet you still went back to him, what a fool you are."
"He was wrong," I said, keeping my voice steady despite my racing heart. "About a lot of things."
"Was he though?" Marcus circled slowly, like a predator. "Because from where I’m standing, you walked right into my trap. Alone. Unard. That seems pretty pathetic to ."
"I’m not alone." I t his eyes. "And I’m not unard. I have sothing you’ll never have, Marcus—people who actually care whether I live or die."
His expression darkened. "Touching. Really. But it won’t save you." He gestured with the gun toward Vivian. "Here’s how this works: you’re going to call your FBI friends and tell them to stand down. Then you’re going to walk out of here with . Vivian stays as insurance."
"Not happening," I said flatly.
"Then I shoot her." He pointed the gun at Vivian, who whimpered. "Your choice. You can be the hero who saves her sister, or the coward who lets her die."
Through the wire, I heard Torres: "Stall him. Snipers almost in position."
"Before I decide," I said, "I want to understand sothing. Why do you hate Damien so much? What did he do that was so unforgivable?"
Marcus laughed bitterly. "What did he do? Everything. He was our father’s favorite. The golden child who could do no wrong while I was beaten, starved, locked in basents for days." His voice rose. "I was seven years old when Father broke my arm. And where was Damien? Standing beside Father, learning to be just like him."
"Damien was a child too," I said carefully. "He was as much a victim as you were."
"No." Marcus’s eyes blazed. "He made a choice. When I was ten and Father found out I’d tried to run away, he beat unconscious. Left bleeding on the floor. And Damien" His voice cracked. "Damien stepped over on his way to dinner. Didn’t even look at . Just stepped over his own brother like I was garbage."
My chest tightened. I’d known his father was cruel, but this.
"I was sent away, brutalized and given inhuman treatnt" Marcus continued. "While Damien got everything—the company, the money, the respect. And he didn’t even try to find . Didn’t care whether I lived or died."
"He cares now," I said quietly. "He’s spent years trying to find you, to make ands."
"Too late!" Marcus shouted, the gun shaking. "It’s years too late for sorry! He made his choice then. Now I’m making mine. And you" He turned the gun back on . "You’re going to be the price he pays for abandoning family."
"Then you’re no better than your father," I said, and saw him flinch. "You’re using violence and cruelty to hurt soone you claim to love. That’s exactly what your father did and you are becoming him."
"Shut up." But his hand wavered.
"Is that really what you want?" I pressed. "To be the monster your father created? Or do you want to be better than him?"
"I said shut up!" Marcus moved closer, pressing the gun to my temple. "You don’t get to psychoanalyze . You don’t know what it was like."
"You’re right. I don’t." My voice was soft. "But I know what it’s like to be betrayed by family. To be thrown away and left for dead. And I know that becoming cruel to hurt them back doesn’t heal the wound. It just creates more pain."
For a mont, sothing flickered in Marcus’s eyes. Uncertainty. Pain.
Then it hardened again. "Nice try. But I’m not one of your broken CEOs you can fix with pretty words." He grabbed my arm roughly. "Now call off the FBI or I start shooting."
"Marcus"
"NOW!"
A voice cut through the warehouse, amplified by a bullhorn: "Marcus Blackwood, this is the FBI. You’re surrounded. Release the hostages and co out with your hands up."
Marcus’s face twisted with rage. "You brought them right to . You stupid." He swung the gun toward Vivian. I didn’t think. I just moved. I threw myself in front of my sister as the shot rang out.
Damien’s POV
The sound of the gunshot stopped my heart."ARIA!" I was moving before I could think, before Torres could stop , sprinting toward the warehouse.
"Blackwood, stand down!" Torres shouted, but I didn’t care about protocols or plans or anything except getting to her.
I burst through the warehouse door to chaos.
Aria was on the ground, Vivian screaming behind her. Marcus stood over them, gun raised for another shot.
"NO!" I tackled him before he could fire, and we went down hard. The gun skittered across the concrete.
Marcus was fast—military training made him deadly. He got his hands around my throat, squeezing, his face a mask of rage.
"This is your fault!" he snarled. "All of it! If you’d just let destroy you quietly"
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as black spots danced in my vision. Then suddenly Marcus was off , FBI agents swarming, tackling him to the ground. I scrambled to my feet, lungs burning, and ran to Aria.
She was conscious, thank God. Sitting up, holding her chest where the bullet had hit the vest."I’m okay," she gasped as I dropped beside her. "Vest caught it. Just—hurts like hell."
"You’re insane." I pulled her against , shaking. "You threw yourself in front of a bullet."
"She’s my sister." Aria looked past at Vivian, who was being untied by agents. "I wasn’t going to let him kill her."
"Ms. Monroe, we need to check you out." Olivia appeared with a dical kit, professional and calm despite the chaos. "Damien, let see her."
I forced myself to step back while Olivia examined Aria. Every bruise, every wince made my chest tighten with the realization of how close I’d co to losing her.
"Bruised ribs, possible fracture," Olivia said. "Hospital. Now."
"I’m fine" Aria started.
"Hospital," Olivia repeated firmly. "You took a bullet to the chest. That’s not sothing you walk off."
As paradics loaded Aria onto a stretcher, I finally looked at Marcus. He was on the ground, hands cuffed behind his back, surrounded by FBI agents.
Our eyes t.
"I didn’t abandon you," I said quietly. "I was young Marcus. I didn’t know how to help, i was just trying to survive Father myself."
"You left there," Marcus said, but his voice lacked its earlier fury. "You knew what he was doing and you left there."
"I know." My throat was tight. "And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for that scared small boy who was too broken to help his brother. But Marcus" I crouched beside him. "Hurting Aria, hurting Noah, hurting innocent people—that doesn’t fix what Father did. It just makes more victims."
"I know." Marcus looked away. "But I don’t know how to stop. The anger—it’s all I have left."
"Then get help," I said. "Real help. Therapy, treatnt, whatever it takes. Because you’re my brother, and sowhere under all this rage is the kid who used to read stories when Father locked us in our rooms."
"That kid died a long ti ago."
"I don’t believe that." I stood. "But Marcus, this is your last chance. You try to hurt my family again, and I won’t show rcy."
"I know." He smiled bitterly. "You love her. Really love her. I can see it."
"More than anything."
"Then you’re lucky." Marcus looked toward where Aria was being loaded into the ambulance. "Hold onto that. Don’t beco Father. Don’t let the Blackwood curse destroy what you have."
"I won’t," I promised.
As FBI agents hauled Marcus away, I ran to the ambulance.
"Damien." Aria reached for as I climbed in beside her. "Is Vivian"
"She’s fine. Bruised but fine. They’re taking her to the hospital for evaluation." I caught her hand. "But Aria, what you did—throwing yourself in front of that bullet"
"Was stupid?" she offered with a weak smile.
"Was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen." My voice cracked. "And the most terrifying. When I heard that shot, when I thought—" I couldn’t finish.
"I’m okay." She squeezed my hand. "The vest worked. Olivia’s being dramatic."
"Your ribs might be fractured," Olivia said from the front of the ambulance. "That’s not dramatic, that is a dical fact."
"See?" Aria smiled at . "I’m fine. Olivia said so."
"That’s not what I said" Olivia started, but Aria was already pulling closer.
"Damien, about what you said earlier. Before I went in." Her eyes were serious. "About loving , about not being done"
"I ant every word," I said imdiately. "Every single word."
"I know." She touched my face gently. "And I need you to know—when Marcus pointed that gun at Vivian, when I threw myself in front of her, it wasn’t just about saving her. It was about being the person you make want to be. The person Noah needs to be. Soone who chooses compassion over revenge, even when it’s hard."
"You’ve always been that person," I said softly. "I just helped you rember."
"We helped each other rember." She pulled down for a kiss—gentle because of her injuries, but no less aningful. "We’re good for each other, Damien. We make each other better."
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