His voice was stronger now, fueled by the adrenaline of the moment.

“The captains will advise her.”

“And I will still be here.”

Leo laughed, a short, sharp bark.

“You won’t survive the night, brother,” Leo said.

“You’ve lost too much blood.”

“Your lungs are filling up.”

“I can hear the rattle from here.”

It was true; Dominic’s breathing was wet and heavy.

I could see the dark stain spreading across the rug from behind the chair.

He was running out of time, and he knew it.

But his grip on the gun he had taken from the guard was steady.

“I’ll live long enough to see you buried, Leo,” Dominic said.

The wind outside gave a violent heave, rattling the heavy glass panes of the window.

One of the wooden shutters outside banged against the stone wall.

The sound was like a gunshot, and everyone in the room flinched.

Guns shifted, barrels aiming at shadows.

Leo’s hand jerked, but he held his fire.

The captain named Frank wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

“This is madness,” Frank muttered.