By the time Tom Kaulitz betrayed me, I was already stupid enough to love him. The rain hammered against the penthouse windows while sirens screamed somewhere below the city, and I stood there with a gun trembling in my hand as his men surrounded me. “You set me up,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the thunder. Tom looked wrecked — blood on his collar, bruises on his knuckles, guilt written all over his face — but none of it mattered anymore. “I was trying to protect you,” he said quietly, taking a step toward me like I wouldn’t break apart if he got too close. I laughed bitterly, tears burning my eyes. “You had my brother killed.” His silence answered everything. For a second, neither of us moved, and the tension between us felt worse than the guns pointed at my head because we both knew the truth: somewhere between being enemies and pretending to hate each other, we had fallen in love — and he had still chosen to destroy me.