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"You win, princess."
In that split second, I pull the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the room.
Atwell's eyes widen in shock as he stumbles forward, gripping his shoulder where the bullet found its mark.
"Anthony," I gasp, rushing to his side as Atwell crumples to the floor, defeated.
Kneeling beside Anthony, I gently touch his face, my fingers trembling.
His eyes meet mine, filled with pain but also gratitude.
"Thank you, Diana," he whispers, but I can barely hear him over the pounding of my heart.
"Stay with me," I plead, trying to assess the damage.
Blood is trickling from a cut on his forehead, and there's a nasty bruise forming on his cheek.
But it's the deep gash on his arm that has me most worried - it looks like it could be from Atwell's knife.
I need to get help, and fast.
"Where's your phone?" I ask desperately, my eyes scanning the room for it or any other way to call for assistance.
"Pocket," Anthony manages to choke out, nodding towards the jacket he'd discarded earlier when things had started to unravel.
I find his phone, but it's dead.
Panic rises in my chest, but I force myself to stay calm, remembering the hitman's phone we'd seen earlier.
I spot it lying on the floor near Atwell's unconscious body.
Swallowing my revulsion, I snatch it up, dial 911, and put the phone on speaker so I can keep an eye on Anthony while I talk.
"911, what's your emergency?" comes the operator's voice, steady and professional.
"Please send an ambulance," I say, my voice shaking.
"We're at the warehouse on the corner of 5th and Oak. My friend has been attacked, and he's bleeding badly."
"An ambulance is on its way," the operator confirms.
"Please try to keep your friend conscious and apply pressure to any bleeding wounds."
"Thank you," I whisper, hanging up and turning my attention back to Anthony.
His face is pale, but he manages a weak smile when our eyes meet.
"See," he murmurs, "I knew you could save me."
"Anthony, don't talk," I urge him, tearing off a strip of fabric from my shirt to use as a makeshift bandage for his arm.
"Save your strength. Help is on the way."
As I press the cloth against his wound, trying to stem the blood flow, I can't help but think about how we ended up in this nightmare.
Our one-night stand, our arranged marriage, and the revelation of Anthony's billionaire status and being the son of a Mafia Don had all led us on this tumultuous journey.
But throughout everything, there's been an undeniable connection between us - a love that has fought through fear, danger, and chaos.
