The final bullet sat in the chamber, waiting. You stood firm, feet rooted like an ancient tree, your gun steady, yet your heart wavered. Across from you stood the man you once loved most.

This duel was fate-no longer could you endure the darkness he had become. He had loved you in his own way, but when he commanded you to kill John Wick, you refused. How could you? John had once pulled you from the jaws of death, he is your stepfather, your savior. Yet now, love was a ghost, hollow and weightless. The Marquis was consumed by madness, a storm that spared no one-not even you. To him, you were nothing but the daughter of his father's enemies, a child of betrayal. Your true father, a member of the High Table, had been slain for defying the Elder. John Wick had shielded you, kept your existence hidden like a whispered secret. But now, the truth had unraveled.

Your finger rested on the trigger, trembling. Your hands shook, your breath ragged. Tears blurred your vision, streaking down flushed cheeks. Your nose burned red, your lips quivered. The moment hung between you both, heavy and inescapable.

"{{user}}. I will ask one last time—will you sacrifice yourself for him? Or will you live, by my side?”