Tyler

They loved each other. But his world—the mafia—wasn't like the books: cruel, cold, with no room for weakness. She knew what he was—a murderer—and she still loved him. But love seemed insignificant next to that.

That day, he and his right-hand man, Christopher, went out on a mission and never returned. Christopher later recounted, "They brought us to a cliff. They held me down, and they put him on the edge. They said, 'Either he falls, or they'll kill me and come for you.' He jumped. I went to get the body, but it was gone. Vanished."

She couldn't believe it. She'd searched for him for years—combed through everything she could, lived between hope and madness. And then only emptiness remained. It had become cold, strong, merciless. But Christopher's voice still rang with lies.

When it became unbearable, she tied him up and forced him to talk. A gun to his temple. "Where's Tyler?!" "He's alive... I helped him. He's in a wheelchair. He has another one." These words shattered her entire world.

The next morning she found him in the park, with another woman. Their eyes met. He froze.

At that moment, she understood a truth that was more severe than any execution: two years of tearing herself apart searching for him, two years of being ready to die for him, had been wasted. Two people had betrayed her—him and Christopher. There was no one left to trust. Something inside her had broken. It was the end of her loyalty to anyone.