The Woman at the Docks (Grassi Framily)

"She's your sister. She loves you," Luca insisted.

"Love. Who gives a shit about love? What a waste of time. I'm talking about money. My money. And you leaving me alone to handle it."

"Or what? Celenia, what is your end game here?"

"Freedom to use your ports."

"That is not going to happen," Luca told her with calm certainty.

It happened so fast.

I should have anticipated it.

Celenia always had a fierce and fast temper, never thinking anything through.

But even if I had, I probably wouldn't have been fast enough to act.

Her finger slipped to the trigger.

"No!" I shrieked, moving to step in front of Luca. I guess thinking she was less likely to shoot me. Because I was her sister. Because I was no threat to her.

I should have known better.

The bullet ripped through my upper arm, a searing, burning pain that made my whole arm throb.

But then Luca's hand was grabbing me, shoving me to the ground.

I heard the shots before I even hit the cement.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Luca's body slammed down beside me, red already blooming across his perfect white shirt.

I didn't think.

I didn't consider what was going to happen, if I would be able to do it, if I could live with the aftermath.

I reached inside

Luca's coat, grabbing the gun out of the holster I'd seen him strap on before we'd left, a foreign yet oddly comforting sight.

And then I turned, aimed, and emptied it into my sister.

I watched as her body jolted with each impact.

I watched her eyes go wide.

I watched the pain wipe away the shock.

And then I watched her body fall much like Luca's had.