I had wallowed in my guilt for almost a month.
No matter what I did, the thought of life draining from Gabriel's body refused to leave me.
Funny how I never saw it but it felt like I did.
My mind conjured the image in perfect detail, his blood, his silence, until it was burned into my brain like a scar I would never escape.
What tore me apart was the fact that I knew if I had just left him alone he would still be alive.
Gabriel hadn't hated Christian, not in the beginning. He was defeated when Christian took his hotel, and he blamed himself for being stupid. He thought it was his fault.
Until I had ignited the fire in him, fed it with my bitterness and anger, turned his shame into vengeance.
And now, I'd damned Christian to a life with blood on his hands.
Gabriel's blood.
Maybe he was a ruthless business man, but I was sure he was incapable of killing, until I put him in a position where he had no choice but to.
There was no one else to blame. Only me.
