No one's dying today

Xavier’s heart was pounding, and his footsteps thundered as he descended the stairs. The scene before him was a twisted tableau: Avery’s arm was outstretched, her gun aimed directly at Cathleen, his wife, but Cathleen stood firm, unflinching, like stone.

"Aaa, right on time, babe," Avery cooed, her gaze sickly sweet upon Xavier. "I wanted you to watch when I shot her; she is the wall blocking our love from blooming."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hands lifting in a gesture of surrender. "Avery, you must have forgotten; I am Cathleen's husband, not yours." His voice was ice, calmness belying the chaos.

"Always playing saint, aren't we?" Avery's scorn sliced through the air. "It has always been simple. Live your life to the fullest, but stay away from what's mine. Was that too much to ask Cathleen?"

Her laughter was manic, echoing off the walls.

Xavier's eyes flicked to Cathleen, searching for fear, for surrender. There was none. She was a fortress, her expression unreadable