A few days ter, Gun stood outside the imposing gates of the psychiatric hospital, his chest tightening as memories flooded his mind. The pce hadn’t changed much—still cold, still unwelcoming, its walls towering high as if determined to keep the world out.

  He took a deep breath, steeling himself before stepping through the gates. It had been years since he st came here. Years since he’d made the decision to cut ties, to protect the children from the woman who had brought them so much pain.

  Sandie.

  The name tasted bitter on his tongue. She had been a storm—a chaotic, destructive force that left only ruin in her wake. The children had suffered because of her, their smiles fading, their innocence stolen.

  And then, they chose him. Piece by piece, month by month, they stopped asking about her. They stopped caring. They looked at Gun with trust in their eyes, clinging to him for safety, for love. And he made sure to give them everything, every ounce of his heart.

  Stepping through the doors to the garden, Gun was met with the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves dancing in the breeze. The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the neatly trimmed hedges. There, sitting on a weathered bench, was Sandie.

  She looked different—mature, almost serene, her hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. Her posture was rexed, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on her p. For a moment, she looked like any other woman, someone untouched by darkness.

  But Gun knew better. The crimes of her past clung to her like a shadow, no matter how peaceful she appeared.

  He walked over, his footsteps quiet against the cobblestone path. Without a word, he sat down opposite her, his back rigid, his gaze cold.

  Sandie looked up, her eyes widening in surprise, but the emotion quickly faded, repced by a faint, mocking smile. “After all these years, you’re back.” Her voice was soft, almost nostalgic.

  Gun’s jaw tightened. “I pnned to leave you here in this dump,” he said, his words dripping with disdain. “It’s where you belong.”

  Sandie chuckled, the sound hollow, echoing through the garden. She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. “Maybe it is... but I still have something you want.”

  ‘Not anymore.’ Gun’s gaze hardened, his fists clenching.

  A flicker of pain crossed her face, gone before he could fully see it. Her smile softened as she looked away, her eyes distant, lost in memories. “How are my children?” Her voice wavered, a hint of longing breaking through her calm facade. “Adalynn must be beautiful, just like me now. What about Jason? He used to love me so much... but I haven’t seen him in years.” Her lips trembled, her hands tightening on her p. “And my Eli... has he grown into a good boy?”

  Gun stared at her, his heart unmoved, his face a mask of cold indifference. He watched the way her eyes softened, the way her shoulders drooped, and for a fleeting moment, she looked... pitiful. Weak.

  ‘But she’s not weak,’ he reminded himself. ‘She’s a monster.’

  Putting his pride aside, Gun sighed, his shoulders loosening just a little. His eyes softened, his voice low as he said, “Yes... she’s beautiful, just like you.” The admission tasted bitter on his tongue, but he couldn’t deny the truth. “She’s modeling now for a children’s clothing brand and keeping up with her studies.”

  Sandie’s eyes widened, a glimmer of pride dancing within them.

  “Jason...” Gun continued, his lips curving into a faint, weary smile. “Jason’s grown up now. He’s... well, he’s fucking women and breaking hearts just like his father.” He shook his head, a mix of amusement and frustration in his voice. “Eli... Eli’s a good boy, but Jason’s a bad influence on him. They grew up so fast.” His eyes darkened, shadows flickering across his face. “Jason doesn’t even want me dating anyone that doesn’t live up to King’s standards.”

  He looked away, his gaze falling to the blooming flowers, their vibrant colours a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside him. His fingers curled into fists, his jaw clenching. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at her, his eyes sharp, piercing. “When was the st time he visited you?”

  Sandie’s eyes brightened, her face softening as a smile graced her lips. “He always visits me.” Her voice was light, almost dreamy. “Especially since... since I don’t have the kids anymore.”

  Gun’s heart skipped a beat, his spine straightening. ‘So, it’s true...’ He narrowed his eyes, his tone calm but cold as ice. “What did he promise you?”

  She blinked, her smile unwavering, completely oblivious to the shift in Gun’s demeanour. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, her gaze distant, lost in her thoughts. “Nothing important, really... just that I should enjoy my time here and that eventually, I’ll get better and leave this pce.” Her eyes sparkled, her voice lowering to a whisper, filled with hope. “And then... we’ll be happy once again. Me, him, and the children. Just like before.”

  Gun’s blood ran cold, his stomach twisting. He stared at her, his chest tightening, his breath shallow. ‘Just like before...’ The words echoed in his mind, the pieces of the puzzle falling into pce.

  Resting his chin on his fist, Gun stared at her intently, his eyes cold and calcuting. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he asked, “So... what you told me about you and King... tell me again.”

  Sandie’s brows knitted in confusion, her lips parting slightly. “What are you talking about?”

  “About your retionship with him,” he crified, his voice deceptively calm. His eyes never left her, piercing into her like a bde.

  She stared at him, her mind racing. Her eyes flickered with suspicion before narrowing. A bitter smirk pyed on her lips. “You never believed me back then. Why now?”

  Gun leaned back, a ugh escaping his throat. It was a hollow sound, dripping with sarcasm. “I just want to hear the words of a mad woman again.”

  Her jaw tightened, her hands clenching on her p. Her eyes burned with fury, but she forced herself to remain composed. Her voice was cold, venomous. “I’m not a mad woman...” Her lips curled into a mocking smile. “But if you really want to know... it was real. Everything was.”

  Gun’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. He watched her carefully, every word dripping with poison.

  “He took care of me just the way I wanted,” she continued, her voice gaining strength. “Money, his love, the children... I had it all. Then you came along and ruined it.”

  Gun’s lips twitched, but he said nothing.

  Sandie’s eyes gleamed with malice, her smirk widening. “I still can’t believe he liked us both.” She ughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “He used to come home smelling like you. At first, I thought you were a woman... then I found out you were male.” Her eyes narrowed, her lip curling in disgust. “I was so disgusted. And he had me pretend like I was actually his sister.”

  Gun’s eyes widened, his nails digging into his palm, but he didn’t flinch.

  “We may have been raised by my father, but I was the heir, and he was the next in line. It was only right for us to get married and have kids.” Her voice grew colder, more spiteful. “But all he wanted to do was fuck.” She ughed again, bitterness oozing from every word. “I looked past his ambitions and crimes, stood by his side all this time, yet he betrayed me... for you?”

  Gun’s shoulders stiffened, his heart pounding, but his expression remained stoic.

  “An unattractive, short, disgusting boy who wears heels.” She spat the words, her eyes filled with contempt. “You ruined everything.”

  For a moment, there was only silence. The tension in the air was suffocating, heavy with unspoken words and hidden pain. Gun’s face was a mask of calm, but his eyes bzed with fury.

  Then, he ughed. It was a cold, cruel ugh, echoing through the room. He stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, calcuted. He looked down at her, his gaze icy, devoid of any emotion.

  “Thank you for answering my questions,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “But you’re nothing more than a crazy woman.”

  Her face crumbled, her eyes widening in shock. For a moment, she looked vulnerable, human. But then, she snarled, her eyes fshing with hatred. “You... you ruined everything!”

  Gun turned away, his back rigid, his shoulders tense. “No, Sandie...” He gnced over his shoulder, his eyes cold, unfeeling. “You ruined yourself.”

  Without another word, he walked away, his footsteps echoing through the room, leaving her behind, broken and defeated.

  *

  Gun’s footsteps echoed in the empty parking lot as he made his way to his car, each step heavier than the st. The chill in the air didn’t help, nor did the nagging thoughts swirling in his mind after the conversation with Sandie. But as he neared his car, he froze, his heart thumping hard in his chest.

  There, by his car, stood King.

  King leaned casually against the vehicle, arms crossed over his chest, shades covering his eyes. The aura around him was suffocating—a gangster boss, oozing confidence and danger. Gun’s stomach churned, a storm of emotions rising within him, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He just stood there, watching.

  King took a slow step forward, removing his sungsses and letting them dangle from his fingers as he met Gun’s gaze. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken history and resentment.

  Gun finally found his voice. “Why are you here?” The words came out more bitter than he intended, his breath coming out in shallow bursts.

  King smirked, the smirk that used to make Gun’s heart race, now just the cold reminder of the past. “I should be asking you that. And I’ve been wondering all these years... why did you lock my sister up?”

  Gun scoffed, taking a step closer to him. “You mean your crazy bitch?” The venom in his tone was unmistakable, his fists clenched at his sides.

  King’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he fought to control his emotions. His heart twisted, but he masked it well. He didn’t want Gun to see that vulnerability, not now. “That had nothing to do with you.”

  Gun shook his head slowly, his lips curling into a twisted grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “You should have stayed dead, King.”

  King’s smirk faltered, repced by a sharp gre. “Aren’t you the nosy one who took the blindfold off?” he shot back, his voice cold, but it held a trace of something deeper—something darker.

  Gun’s breath hitched, and his chest tightened as the old wounds resurfaced. The memories, the pain, everything that had been buried for so long came rushing back. His voice cracked, but he forced the words out. “You’re an asshole... So much happened since meeting you, and I regret ever falling for you.”

  The silence that followed was suffocating. King’s hands clenched into fists, his own anger rising. He stepped closer to Gun, his voice low and dangerously calm. “If I remember correctly, aren’t you the one who followed Troy’s words and stayed to fuck my life around?”

  Gun trembled, his heart hammering in his chest. The weight of everything—Troy’s proposal, King’s betrayal, the years of fighting and pain—was too much for him to bear. He couldn’t stop the tears from threatening to fall, but he forced them back, his fists trembling at his sides.

  “At this rate, I need to book myself into a psychiatric hospital,” Gun muttered, the dark thought slipping out before he could catch it.

  King studied him closely, noticing the way Gun’s shoulders shook, the way his eyes gzed over as the weight of the past crashed down on him. King’s gaze softened for the briefest moment, but then he looked around, making sure they were alone.

  Without warning, he reached out and grabbed Gun by the arm, pulling him into a hug. Gun’s breath hitched in surprise, his body stiff against King’s, but King didn’t let go. His fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him closer, as if trying to anchor him, trying to remind him of something—of them.

  Gun’s heart raced, the closeness, the scent of King, it all stirred something deep inside him. But as much as he hated it, he couldn’t push King away. The memories—the good memories—fshed through his mind, pulling him back to a time when things made sense, when they made sense.

  King kissed him softly on the ear, a whisper of warmth against his skin. “Don’t do this to us, Gun,” King’s voice was barely a whisper, full of something raw, something desperate. “You’re my husband, and I’m yours. You don’t have to fight me. I’m not your enemy.”

  Gun’s breath hitched, the words like a dagger to his chest, but also a balm to his wounds. His body trembled in King’s arms, his heart torn between hate and love. Could he truly go back?

  Could they ever go back to what they once were?

  Or has the damage already been done?

  For a moment, all he could do was stand there, in King’s arms, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on him.