Sienna's POV
The study smelled like old paper and expensive liquor.
Dim light pooled across the wooden floor, touching the massive portrait mounted on the wall. My father stared back at me from the gilded frame, eyes sharp, smile controlled. Even in paint, he looked powerful.
I stood before him, glass in hand.
"You see this, don't you?" I murmured.
The amber liquid caught the light as I swirled it lazily.
"They think they can breathe peacefully. They think this is over."
My jaw tightened.
"I promise you, Father. Every single person responsible for your death will pay. I will not rest. I will not soften. I will not forgive."
The words were steady. Calm.
But underneath them was a storm that never stopped.
I took a slow sip.
A knock echoed through the room.
"Come in," I said without turning around.
The door creaked open behind me.
A hesitant voice spoke. "Ma'am… we couldn't kill them."
Silence stretched.
I didn't turn yet.
"Why did you stop?" I asked quietly.
The man swallowed audibly. "Also… the team you sent to Jay's friend's house… they were caught by the police."
The glass shattered against the floor.
The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.
Finally, I turned.
The man stood near the door, already pale, already trembling.
"I gave you one job," I said softly, stepping toward him. "One job."
"Please, ma'am," he stammered. "Give me one more chance."
I walked to my desk.
Opened the drawer.
Removed my gun.
The metal felt familiar in my hand.
"Last chance?" I repeated, a small laugh escaping me. "I don't even know where my father's assistant found you. You are useless."
He dropped to his knees.
"We got our hands on Jay and Keifer," he blurted. "But they escaped because it was dark! We couldn't see—"
I moved faster than he expected.
The butt of the gun struck his head, and he collapsed sideways onto the floor.
"It was dark?" I said, tilting my head. "It was dark?"
A laugh bubbled out of me. Sharp. Wrong.
"I was dark?" I added, stepping closer. "Is that what you are saying?"
"Please!" he cried, scrambling back. "I have an old mother. A little son. Please, spare me!"
"Close your eyes," I said.
He shook his head violently.
"Close. Your. Eyes."
"Ma'am, please—"
"Don't make me repeat myself."
My voice dropped into something colder than ice.
He squeezed his eyes shut, sobbing.
The room went quiet.
Two deafening cracks shattered the silence.
When the echoes faded, he lay still.
The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Breathing.
Then I let the gun fall onto the desk.
"Because it was dark," I muttered. "What a fool."
I took my handkerchief from my pocket and wiped my cheek slowly, calmly. Composed again.
A few minutes later, the door opened without a knock.
" Sienna…" Alex stepped inside and stopped short.
He looked tired.
"You can't keep killing everyone like this," he said carefully. "You've already killed thirty-seven people this week. Including him, that makes thirty-eight."
I walked back toward my father's portrait.
"Then very soon it will be almost sixty," I replied coolly. "Because of Jasper Jean Mariano's family. Mark Keifer Watson's family. And their little Section E friends too."
Alex ran a hand over his face. "What do I tell this man's family now?"
"Give them enough money to take care of his son until university. Hire a nanny for his mother and the boy," I said flatly. "Tell them he died saving a little girl from a motor accident. Simple."
Alex stared at me.
"When will you stop this?"
I looked at my father's painted eyes.
"The day his killers are dead."
Silence filled the space between us.
"Call the cleaners," I added casually. "Tell them to take the body. And wipe my floor. There's a mess."
Alex nodded slowly.
Then he left.
The study fell quiet again.
Too quiet.
I turned from the portrait and stared at the desk.
Jayjay.
Keifer.
Section E.
Jayjay.
Keifer.
Section E.
Jayjay.
Keifer.
Section E.
Jayjay.
Keifer.
Section E.
Jayjay.
Keifer.
Section E.
The names echoed in my mind like a chant.
Suddenly, I swept the papers off the desk. Files scattered across the floor. The chair toppled backward with a loud crash.
My breathing grew uneven.
"Get ready," I whispered into the empty room.
A slow smile curved my lips.
"To die."
End of Chapter