Jordan. One moment, we were dancing, I was holding her, monitoring her breaths, smelling her rose vanilla hair, the next she was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. This was not happening to me. It could not be happening. I felt as if I was losing my mind. I could not believe what I was seeing. It could not be. It just could not be. I dropped to my knees next to her. My hands were shaking. Jesus, God, no. Not her. Not her. Not my miracle.She was looking up at me, with a strange expression on her face, as if she was surprised to see me, as if it was me that was hurt, as blood was oozing out of her wound and spreading into her stomach area of her lavender dress. The assassin had been aiming for me, but he had hit her instead. This was all my fault and I knew it was Salvatore. I had taken his son away from him, he wanted his revenge. One more shot rang out and I heard the shrill announcement.“It’s clear! We have him!”“Hey you,” she said softly. Then she frowned, her hands were
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