BOOK 3 * 1| Revenge-1

: Revenge (Rose's POV) Revenge was often a crime of passion. It was as wickedly human as an emotion could be. It could never be concealed beneath a facade of virtue, couldn't nestle itself within the confines of morality. Revenge was real. Honest. Raw. Revenge was ruthless and brutal. But tonight wasn't about revenge for all of us. It was about Tchaikovsky, his misery, and one of the masterpieces it created; Swan Lake. Shadows lingered in every note of the composition as we watched ballerinas dance across the stage. The Metropolitan Opera House was flooded with New York's corrupt and elite that night; every corner was being used for deals so immoral and bargains tainted by ill intent. I suppressed a sigh of agitation as the whispers around me continued, men mercilessly ruining the performance for what they called business in our world. Unable to enjoy the show, my eyes began drifting from the stage and to the crowd below while I observed from one of the balconies up above. My parents were undoubtedly in attendance, hidden somewhere within the audience, and my older brother was lodged right beside me, networking in his own ways, but I was here for my own reasons tonight. Better yet, I was here for Marshall's reasons. Although the case wasn't entirely mine to work on, I was called for backup, and I intended to help as best as I could. I was firmly instructed to stick to orders and complete the mission. In other words, I had a man to kill at The Opera tonight. My hand absentmindedly drifted up to my earrings as I continued to fidget with them, watching the two men converse in hushed whispers a few rows down from me. A moment later, one of them rose out of his seat and left the theater with his phone buzzing in his palm. There goes my victim. Exactly eight minutes later, I followed. "Dom," I whispered softly, turning to him once I cleared my throat. Pausing his conversation, he briefly turned to me. "Yes, Rose?" he asked. "I need to step out for a moment." He warned quietly, "Rose." "Dominic," I mocked, tipping my head to one side. "Don't let Dad catch you," he hushed me as I rose to my feet. With one final look at him over my shoulder, I slipped out of my seat and gathered my dress, silently walking up the steps and escaping through the back door, entering the main foyer. With the entire crowd nestled inside the theater, the lobby was deserted and deafeningly silent. My footsteps were muffled against the scarlet carpet as I wandered down the halls, glancing at the photographs on display while dim, amber lights casted a honey-gold hue over the place. The venue was huge, which meant he couldn't have gone too far. I continued strolling leisurely, my hands clasped together behind my back while the fabric of my black satin dress hugged my hips and waist, flowing down to my heels while a sleek Kanzashi hair pain held my hair up into a twisted bun with a few strands slipping loose around my face. Kanzashis had a history of being used as lethal weapons in Japan, but here, they were a rarity and almost never suspected to be a murder weapon, merely an accessory. Elegant, rare, and yet deadly. I continued searching the halls until I finally found the man hiding in a tucked away corner, out of sight to anybody in passing. He viciously dialed his phone, pacing back and forth, making one call after another. "Did you secure the package?" he demanded. "Then check again, damn it! It should have arrived by now. We're not talking about small quantities here." A drug deal. How typical. "What about the mules? What did you do with them?" I listened in, hovering near the corner as I leaned against the wall, biding my time. "Get rid of their bodies. It shouldn't be too hard. Five kids is all you're dealing with." A beat later, he went quiet, which meant he'd hung up the phone. Pushing off the wall, I stepped forward and into the light, now standing in his path and blocking the only way out. "Smuggling drugs in and out of the city, and that too by using children as your drug mules, Mr. Murray?" I clicked my tongue in disapproval. "That's below the belt, isn't it?" Lifting a hand, I grabbed the Kanzashi hairpin and tugged it out, letting my hair fall down my back in loose waves while I spun the dagger-like pin between my fingers, firming my grip on it. "Excuse me?" he scoffed at me. I stared at him blankly, merely lifting my brows. "You're excused," I replied dryly. Ignorantly, he tried to side-step me. I shifted my weight, blocking his path. He tried again, but I stood my ground, bracing a hand on the wall. "I'm afraid I can't let you go, Mr. Murray," I said softly, taking a step forward, cornering him. I twirled the pin between my fingers, the sharp end pricking my finger until a single drop of blood pooled on the surface. Realization finally settled in his eyes. "Who sent you?" he asked. "I cannot disclose that information." "Whoever it is, however much he's paying you… I'll double it, Rose," he began, a surge of desperation washing over him as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. He wasn't going to survive the night, and I was sent to make sure of it. "If you tried that line on my father, it would have worked on him," I shrugged a shoulder. "Unfortunately, the blood flowing through my veins isn't thick enough to corrupt me, Mr. Murray. My morals are far stronger than that." His jaw ticked as he eyed me, looking for a way to escape. "I'm here on behalf of all those children you've killed," I said, taking another step forward, "I'm here for their revenge." I saw it coming when he reached for my throat, and my movements came with ease, force flowing through my body like liquid as I caught his wrist and pinned his arm down, lifting my knee through the slit in my dress to his abdomen, knocking the air out of him. As he coughed and sputtered, I firmly gripped his collar, using all my strength to smash him against the wall until his head ricocheted off of it, bringing a groan of pain from his lips which sounded like fucking music to my ears. His knees buckled as I stabbed his thigh with the sharp edge of the Kanzashi pin, and as he slid down to the ground, I firmly clamped his own handkerchief against his mouth, muffling his screams.