Chapter 35: The River
Chapter 35: The River
The night was darker than sin. The kind of darkness that swallowed everything whole and left no room for light to fight its way through. The only sound breaking the silence was the steady thrum of Daniel’s shallow breathing, ragged and uneven as though each breath weighed a thousand pounds. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly the veins on his knuckles strained, pale against the shadows cast by the dim dashboard glow.
Beside him, Eve sat unnervingly still. She wasn’t panicked. She wasn’t trembling. She wasn’t even blinking much. Her slender fingers rested lazily in her lap, nails glinting faintly in the neon reflections of passing streetlights. She looked like she was waiting for something inevitable, as if tonight had always been written in her stars.
In the backseat lay Sienna.
Her body was motionless, crumpled as though she were a broken doll abandoned in a child’s playroom. A streak of dried blood stained her temple where the vase had shattered against her skull, the crimson now dulled to brown. Her skin was pale, lips parted slightly, chest rising shallowly — alive, but barely.
Daniel couldn’t look at her. Every time his eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, shame seared him. He couldn’t forget the moment she had collapsed — her gasp, the way her knees had given way under her, her body thudding against the floor with terrifying finality. He had knelt down, shaking her shoulders, calling her name. But then Eve had screamed, throwing herself against the wall in hysterics, spitting out lies with perfect precision:
“She attacked me! She found out and went crazy!”
And he had believed her. God help him, he had believed her.
Now here they were — hurtling through the empty countryside roads, carrying a woman who had once been his entire world, his partner, his wife, to a fate he couldn’t even articulate without choking.
The road curved, revealing the distant shimmer of the river under the faint sliver of moonlight. Daniel’s grip on the wheel faltered. His chest tightened, a sob threatening to claw its way out.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered, voice hoarse.
Eve’s head turned toward him, her profile sharp, her expression unreadable. Then she reached out, her hand curling over his trembling one on the wheel. “Yes, you can,” she said softly, almost tenderly. “It’s the only way.”
Daniel’s throat worked as he swallowed the bile rising in him. “She’ll die, Eve. She’ll—” His voice cracked. “God, what if she’s already—”
“She made her choice the moment she came after me,” Eve interrupted coldly. “Don’t you see? She was going to ruin everything. Us. The company. You. Me. All of it. She left us no choice.”
Her calmness chilled him more than the night air seeping in through the cracked window. He glanced at her — the gleam in her eyes wasn’t fear, wasn’t grief. It was hunger.
The car rolled to a slow stop at the edge of the riverbank. Crickets chirped in the tall grass, and the water lapped gently against the rocks like an eerie lullaby.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Daniel sat frozen, sweat rolling down his temple, heart pounding in his throat. The sight of the water made him nauseous.
Eve leaned back in her seat, exhaling smoke from the cigarette she had lit minutes earlier. The ember glowed like the eye of the devil. “Do it,” she said simply, flicking the ashes out the window.
Daniel’s chest heaved. “Eve…” His voice was a broken whisper. “This is murder.”
Her lips curved into the faintest smirk. “No, darling. This is survival.”
He shut his eyes, tears slipping down his face. He had built empires, fought battles in boardrooms, crushed rivals without blinking. But this… this was different. This wasn’t business. This was blood.
When he opened his eyes, Sienna was still there, her body so still it made his stomach twist. He remembered her laughter — soft and melodic, like sunlight breaking through heavy clouds. He remembered their wedding night, when she had fallen asleep in his arms whispering promises of forever. He remembered how she used to believe in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself.
And now he was about to throw her away.
He let out a strangled sob and slammed his fist against the steering wheel, startling the night. “God forgive me.”
Eve didn’t flinch. She opened her door, heels crunching against the gravel, and walked around to the backseat. Without hesitation, she tugged the door open and slid her hands under Sienna’s shoulders. “Help me,” she ordered.
Daniel hesitated, trembling, until Eve’s voice sliced through the night again, sharper this time. “If you don’t, then everything is for nothing. Do you want her to wake up? To tell the world what she knows? To destroy us both?”
His body moved before his mind caught up. Together, they lifted Sienna out of the car. Her body was limp, head lolling against Daniel’s chest. He tried not to look at her face, but when he did, he nearly collapsed under the weight of what he saw — innocence, betrayal, love, all crushed into nothingness.
They carried her to the river’s edge, the cold water glinting under the pale light. Daniel’s legs shook as though each step was a sentence he’d never escape.
“On three,” Eve said, her voice steady, commanding. “One… two…”
But Daniel’s knees buckled. He fell to the ground, clutching Sienna tightly against him, rocking her as though she were a child. “I can’t,” he sobbed. “I can’t do this, Eve! Please, God, I can’t—”
Eve crouched beside him, her face a mask of pity — false, manufactured. She smoothed his hair back like a mother soothing a frightened child. “Shh, darling. You’re only doing what needs to be done.”
Her voice hardened as she leaned close, her breath brushing his ear. “She never loved you. Not the way I do. This… is mercy.”
Before Daniel could respond, Eve pressed her hands against Sienna’s body and shoved her into the water.
Daniel let out a broken scream, scrambling to his feet, reaching out desperately — but it was too late. Sienna’s body slid into the black river, the water closing around her silently, swallowing her whole. The ripples spread out, then faded, leaving only stillness.
Daniel stumbled forward, his hands clawing at the water as though he could pull her back. But the current had already taken her, dragging her into the abyss. His sobs echoed into the night, raw and anguished. He fell to his knees on the bank, chest heaving, hands covered in mud. “What have we done?”
Eve stood behind him, her silhouette sharp against the moonlit water. She didn’t cry. She didn’t waver. She simply reached into her pocket, pulled out Sienna’s phone, and held it up between her fingers. For a moment, she studied it, the reflection of the screen glimmering against her cold eyes.
Then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she tossed it into the river. The splash was small, insignificant, but the weight of it felt monumental.
“Now we’re free,” she whispered.
Daniel’s shoulders shook as he buried his face in his hands, his soul breaking apart piece by piece. But Eve… Eve only smiled, her eyes glinting like polished steel. For her, this was only the beginning.
As the water swallowed both Sienna and her phone, neither Daniel nor Eve noticed the faint glow from the opposite riverbank. Someone had been watching.