I clasped the delicate lace of my bridal gown so tightly that my knuckles turned an ashen white. The pristine fabric, meant to symbolize purity and new beginnings, now enshrouded me like a funerary veil, suffocating the remnants of my former freedom...
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I shot him.
I could hear my heart hammering away inside my chest as the metallic weight of the gun seemed to double with every second that passed. My surroundings were in a sudden uproar - a terrible mixture of shock, chaos, and danger, like some grim scene out of a cheap, hard-boiled movie.
"Oh my God! Oh my God! I didn't mean to..." I could hear my own panicked screams ringing in the dimly lit room. My hands - covered in blood - were working furiously to stop the bleeding.
He groaned - a menacing, deep-throated growl that froze me in my tracks, as he pushed my hands away. "Don't!"
Panic surged in my chest as I watched the flicker of pain fade from his eyes, only to be replaced by cold anger.
"You're bleeding out, for God's sake! We need to bandage that up, do something!" My protest was nothing more than a pathetic whimper.
"No shit Sherlock! Give me the fucking gun!" He hastily snatched the gun out of my shaking hand.
As the others rushed in, the tension in the air became suffocating. Diego's condemning gaze seemed to burn holes into my flesh, his accusations flying silently. Yet it was Giada's agonized cries that tugged hardest at my heartstrings.
"Can someone tell me what the hell is happening here?" Diego demanded. His fury-fueled question went unanswered.
Giada was beside herself with worry. "My God, Alessandro, figlio! Quello che è successo? (son! what happened!)" Giada cried, reaching for him.
Alessandro gave me a curt glance, warning clear in his ice-cold eyes. "It was just an accident, I didn't know the gun was loaded."
Diego wasn't having any of it. "This doesn't look like an accident to me!" he barked.
I was shivering, my mind desperately struggling to grasp the enormity of the situation. The bitter pill of my responsibility threatened to choke me, as I staggered under the burden of my own guilt.
"Enough! Everyone back to their rooms now," Alessandro said firmly, cutting off any further arguments. His grip firm as he led me out of the office and back to our bedroom.
The sight of blood seeping from his wounds, and tainting my trembling hands, froze me in my tracks, in a numb state of disbelief. I never imagined I'd be capable of hurting another human being, let alone firing a deadly shot. My stomach churned as the reality of my actions settled in.
As the intensity of my emotions subsided, they were soon replaced with a bitter taste of regret that loomed over me like a threatening storm cloud.
Tears were welling up in my eyes as I realized the horror of my actions, I was devastated, shaking, uttering disbelievingly, "What...what have I done?"
As though untouched by my plight, he looked at me, "What?" he asked, his voice was detached, his face emotionless. "You got scared?"
Looking at his blank, impassive face while he wiped off the blood from his arms, sent me into a tailspin of dread.
