Page 18

Chapter eighteen

Lyric

Epilogue

FOUR YEARS LATER, THE RHYTHMIC clicking of my six-inch stilettos punctuated the cacophony of New York’s bustling streets as I walked down the sidewalk. My eyes scanned the crowd like a hawk on the hunt, trailing behind a man named Clint Montrell, a high-class businessman who relished abusing girls and stalking them like fresh meat. The joke was on him, though; this time, I was the predator lurking in the shadows, watching his every move.

He turned down an alleyway, following the directions I had sent him from a fake profile, luring him into my web. He believed that I was some naive girl he could manipulate into his twisted fantasy of control, but he would soon find out who was really pulling the strings.

“Sandra?” he called out, searching for the blonde girl no older than eighteen whose profile picture I had used to bait him. My heels caught him off guard, and he spun around, his eyes wide with surprise. “Well, hello. Who are you, sweet thing?”

I smiled, maroon lips parting to reveal bright white teeth and a predatory grin that belied the danger lurking beneath my sultry exterior. My amber eyes, hidden behind a black masquerade mask, held his gaze captive. “Where’s the party at, baby?” He purred, his voice dripping with seduction.

His grin widened as his eyes roamed over my long legs, taking in the tantalizing sight before him. “Right here,” I replied alluringly, moving closer to him as I gradually dragged my long black manicured nails over the buttons of my coat, slowly unbuttoning them one by one, beckoning him with a curl of my finger. “Want to tell me all your sins?” I whispered in his ear as he closed the gap between us, his breath hot against my skin.

But then he pulled back, suspicion clouding his eyes. “You like it kinky, huh?”

At that moment, I struck like a viper, pulling out the black butterfly knife I had taken from X and driving it straight through his eye socket. He stumbled backward, stunned by the sudden, searing pain, and I reached forward, yanking the knife back out as he fell onto the cold, unforgiving pavement of the dark alley. As he choked on his blood, I leaned over him, my voice soft yet chilling. “Looks like I already know your sins,” I murmured, then stood upright and removed my mask before making my way out of the alleyway, leaving him to die alone.

Back out in the open, where crowds of people bustled on their way home after work, I approached the bus stop, eager to return to my apartment in the Bronx. But fate, it seemed, had other plans, for as I moved through the crowd, a glimpse of a red mask halted me. It was a mask I had once feared, a mask I had run from and thought I could escape after he was gone, but it still haunted me today, a specter from my past that refused to be exorcised. As I stared into those familiar, inky eyes, I felt the icy tendrils of fear wrap around my heart, and I jumped as my phone pinged. I glanced back up, and the hallucination was gone.

As I unlocked my phone, I noticed a message from my coworker.

Lena: Miss me, Reina?

The End