The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 266

It all happened in less than a heartbeat. No one saw it coming. Not even Petty noticed until blood started welling from her hand, her arm going completely numb.

She wasn't sure what pain even felt like anymore. All she could focus on was the deep red of her blood. It dripped through the cracks in the courtyard tiles, sinking into the dirt below.

It was supposed to be broad daylight, but suddenly everything felt darker. A heavy shadow slipped down from the rooftop, settling over Petty, wrapping her in a cold she could feel deep in her bones.

She turned, searching for the man holding the gun. His eyes were icy, jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin line. There was an ache growing inside her, but it had nothing to do with her wound.

He'd saved her before, shooting a kidnapper to protect her. Now he'd fired at her himself. All because she dared to lay a hand on Laura.

Tears glossed her vision. Franco’s face looked as cold and pale as a winter storm. He let the gun clatter to the ground and came at her in long, furious strides.

Rage rose in Petty’s chest. She glanced at the discarded gun, making for it, determined—but before she could reach it, arms wrapped around her from behind, trapping her right where she stood.

Franco's voice was low and tight. “Petty.”

With the gun out of reach and Franco holding her in place, Petty lashed out, kicking an empty flowerpot straight toward Laura’s wheelchair.

The chair had been resting on a sloped ramp. The pot smashed into the wheel, setting it rolling forward until it tipped over the edge. Laura spilled out, hitting the hard ground with a dull thud.

She cried out, hands scraping on the rough gravel, tiny beads of blood springing up on her palms.

“Laura!” The maid screamed, her voice trembling with shock.

Hans had bled so much… Laura’s meager scratches couldn’t compare.

These days, Franco felt completely unpredictable. His father had hurt her family, but he’d still crossed every line to rescue her, even flying in by helicopter.

She thought she’d constructed walls no one could get through. But all those small kindnesses, each little moment when he’d chosen her, felt like flaming arrows cracking those walls wide open.

That gunshot, though, wiped everything clean. It was like someone poured cement over her heart—not just patching up the splinters in her defenses, but locking them in, impossible for anyone to break down.

She didn’t question anything anymore.

“Why am I even bothering to say this…” she muttered, her voice trembling with self-loathing. “Even if Laura killed me, you’d never lay a finger on her.”

Franco’s gaze lingered on her, his dark eyes clouded and impossible to read.