Chapter 33: The Devil in Silk
Chapter 33: The Devil in Silk
The silence inside Eve’s apartment was unsettling. The air smelled faintly of roses and cigarette smoke, a clash of sweetness and bitterness that felt too much like Eve herself. Sienna stood in the doorway of the bedroom, chest heaving, the voicemail from Noah still replaying in her head like a ticking bomb counting every seconds.
And there she was—Eve, or Angel?
Standing before the mirror in a silk robe the color of midnight, her hair cascading down in soft curls, lips painted in blood-red. She didn’t look startled by Sienna’s sudden intrusion. No. She looked prepared.
Their eyes met in the mirror’s reflection.
“You,” Sienna hissed, her fists tightening at her sides.
Eve turned slowly, her face softening into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I was hoping you’d find out,” she whispered, as if savoring every word.
Sienna took a step forward, the weight of betrayal pressing down on her chest. “Your name isn’t Eve. It’s Angel.” Her voice cracked with fury. “Noah told me everything. Your lies, your past, your hatred for me. Tell me, was any of it real? Any of it at all?”
Eve’s smirk widened. She leaned against the vanity, crossing her arms as if this were nothing more than an amusing game.
“Finally,” she said. “Finally, the queen begins to see her kingdom crumbling.”
Sienna’s heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear her own voice. “What do you want from me? Why destroy everything I’ve built?”
Eve stepped closer, silk brushing against her legs like liquid fire. Her eyes burned with venom.
“What do I want?” she echoed. “I want everything you’ve ever had. The company. Daniel. Your precious legacy. The world sees you as untouchable, Sienna—the perfect wife, the brilliant businesswoman, the woman with everything. But I know better. Behind the polished glass, you’re fragile. Alone. And now? Now I’m going to take it all.”
Her words cut like knives, each syllable laced with poison.
Sienna shook her head, her voice trembling with rage. “You’re sick. Twisted. Daniel is my husband—”
Eve’s laugh rang out sharp, mocking. “Your husband? Don’t fool yourself. He doesn’t love you anymore. He loves me. He’ll never say it, of course—men like him always pretend to protect their pride—but when he looks at me, I see it. Desire. Obsession. I’ve already won. And look at you, you have lost it, Sienna!”
That was it.
Hee blood was boiling now, Eve crossed all her limits and Sienna is not raised in a way yo take people's shit.
Sienna’s palm flew before she could stop herself.
The slap echoed in the room, sharp and raw, leaving a red mark across Eve’s cheek.
For a moment, silence swallowed them both.
Then Eve’s lips curved into something terrifying. Not shock. Not pain. But delight.
“Oh, that felt good,” she said softly, her voice dripping with venom. “Now we’re finally being honest.”
The argument exploded.
“You ruined my marriage!” Sienna screamed, her voice breaking with the weight of months of betrayal. “You manipulated him, twisted everything, and for what? To punish me for something I didn’t even know? For something your father—”
“Don’t you dare speak about my father!” Eve roared, her voice cracking like thunder. Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears, but the fury in them swallowed every trace of softness. “The day he died, you were smiling in some glossy magazine headline. You were living the life he should have had—the power, the respect, the empire. You stole it from him. And from me.”
Sienna’s throat closed. She wanted to shout, to deny it, to say she hadn’t even known about Eve’s father. But before she could form the words, Eve’s hand darted to the vanity.
The vase.
Porcelain. Heavy. Gleaming under the dim bedroom light.
Sienna’s eyes widened just as Eve swung.
The impact cracked through her skull like lightning. White-hot pain exploded behind her eyes. She stumbled backward, the world tilting, sounds muffled like she was sinking underwater. Then the warm, sticky rush of blood trickled down her temple, staining the collar of her blouse.
Her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the floor, glassy shards of the vase scattering around her like fallen stars.
Her breaths came shallow, ragged. The room blurred into fragments—Eve’s silk robe swaying above her, the cruel satisfaction in her rival’s eyes, the metallic scent of her own blood.
Through the haze, she heard Eve crouch beside her, whispering like a lover confessing a secret.
“You were never strong enough, Sienna. You only wore the crown because others handed it to you. But me? I’ll take it with my own hands. And when I stand where you once stood, I’ll make sure no one even remembers your name.”
Sienna wanted to move, to scream, to claw her way back into control. But her body betrayed her. The strength drained from her limbs, leaving her sprawled on the cold hardwood, vision dimming.
And then—
The sound of the front door slamming open.
Heavy footsteps. A familiar voice calling out.
“Sienna?”
Daniel.
Eve’s eyes flickered, a storm of shock and calculation swirling in their depths. Eve was not expecting him to be at her place within an hour at this time. Usually he takes time but tonight he is here, at a perfect time.
Sienna turned her head weakly, just enough to see him standing in the doorway. His face froze, horror painting every feature. His gaze darted from the shards of glass to the blood seeping down her face—then to Eve, still holding the handle of the shattered vase.
Time seemed to stop.
Sienna’s last coherent thought before darkness tugged her under was not of pain, nor of Eve’s triumphant smirk. It was of Daniel’s expression—split wide open with disbelief.
Would he finally see the truth?
Or had Eve already poisoned him beyond saving?
Daniel stands at the threshold, staring at the bloodied scene. Eve drops the broken vase, her voice trembling with feigned innocence. “Daniel… it’s not what it looks like.”