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“Who was it?”

I shrug. He knows half of the time I don’t give a fuck about the names of the people I kill. I do what I’m told. He doesn’t press me for more.

“So what are you going to do about her?”

I smirk at him.

“There’s nothing to do. She’s mine now.”

He raises his eyebrows as he shakes his head, not believing a word I said.

“You’re serious? You carved your name into her skin. You think she is just accepting that?”

I look down, swirling my drink.

“She doesn’t have a choice.”

He nods.

“So I need your help with something.”

My eyes dart up to meet Lucien’s. He never asks me for fucking help.

“With what?”

He leans closer, speaking low.

“I was on a job recently. I swear to god I saw…. him..”

“Who?” He pauses.

“My brother.”

“Your brother died. I was at his fucking funeral.”

“I swear, I saw him.”

“Then you’re seeing a fucking ghost. You should have just gone to his funeral. You probably just have a guilty fucking conscious from not going.”

His jaw ticks.

“I know what I fucking saw,” he says through gritted teeth.

Ilet out a sigh.

“If you have any leads, I’ll see them out.”

He nods, accepting my offer. I pull up Evelyn’s bedroom footage on my phone. She’s passed out. I watched her clean her wounds again today, like she did last night. I had planned to see her today, but I need her to cope with this first. I can’t let her find out. Evelyn will never know what I did for her. She doesn’t need to. I will always kill for her, and she will always bleed for me.

25

Evelyn

I stand on the platform. The room smells like bourbon and mint, with a hint of smoke. I feel the air thickening around me, as if a demonic presence is near. I look out into the crowd, and everyone wears a black mask. The same mask that he wore.

I look down and see that I am naked, and my flesh is raw, and crimson stains drip onto the stage. I begin sweating profusely, scrambling to cover myself. When I turn to run, I run into a man—the same man who gave me his card at the club.

“Why didn’t you call me?”