The cold air cut through the night as she stood frozen, watching the blade pierce his chest. His blood spilled like dark ink, staining the ground beneath them. He coughed, droplets of crimson splattering on his lips, but his gaze never wavered from hers. His eyes, filled with love, pain, and acceptance, were harder to bear than the sight of his blood.
“Why are you doing this? Was my love not enough?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. The agony in his voice twisted something deep inside her.
The woman in front of him held the blade with a steady hand. Her face was calm, her expression unreadable. “Your biggest mistake was meeting me.” Her voice was soft, almost a caress, but the words sliced through him like the blade in her hand. “Now, you have to pay the price.”
