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She’d stare at me with those trusting, soulful eyes, her lips curving before the cutest laughter escapes from them. At that moment, I’d be the motherfucking king of the world because I made her laugh.

In my mind, I’m in my forever—where I’m just Rex and she’s just my Olive.

And we’re happy.

The imaginary moment is so perfect, it almost feels fragile.

Then the room plunges into darkness.

Sharp sounds crack through the air. My body reacts before my mind does.

Gunshots.

Olive.

People slam into me, bloodcurdling screams rippling through the room.

“Gunmen. Run!” someone yells.

The women on my arms flee for the exit. But I stay rooted, scanning the chaos.

Where is she? Fuck. Please let her be okay.

It’s too dark. Too many shapes moving, shifting, crashing into one another.

Utter chaos. Madness.

My eyes sweep the room again. I don’t see Olivia or Lana anywhere.

Or Bree.

Fuck. The mission. The Association must be here for Bree.

Bang!

More gunshots. More screams.

Icy panic floods my veins as I push through the crowds in the dark, guided only by the pulsing red emergency lights.

The side exit. The meeting spot.

“Olivia! Bree!” I holler, the sound of my voice swallowed by terror.

Dread rises like a tsunami inside me.

Bang!

More cries. People trample over each other, running for the exits.

I brace myself against a game table, my head jerking, eyes scanning.

That distinct shade of purple. The waitstaff uniform. Anything.

I’ll die if anything happens to Olivia. I can’t let anything happen to her. I also can’t let anything happen to Bree. Raya’s tragic ending can’t repeat itself tonight.

Then, just as panic pulls meunder—

I see her.