Sinveer's POV –
I can still hear the music of the party that night. And the abrupt silence of the families that follows after that day— two weeks ago. Their silence means that they catch on, that they're afraid. which is good. They should be.
The silence inside me? Is different.
Standing alone in the De Luna courtyard. Wind tears at the silk of my dress shirt. The crack wall where her body shattered still reeks of bone and faint perfume. Her screams had echoed beautifully in the high ceilings. But they ended too quickly.
I should feel triumphant. I made a spectacle. I sent a message.
So why do I feel like the fool? Like I've made a grave assumption and a mistake.
There's this feeling I can't place my fingers on, no matter how much I've think things through.
But I have to place a finger on this. To be sure.
"Rigo," I speaks quietly, when he approaches from behind after a knock on the door.
"Yes, Don?"
"The girl I killed. I'm not sure?"
"But she matches our findings. And Don De Santi couldn't denial it."
I stare at him.
"Yes she did, but..." I trail off, my gaze fix on the wall.
Rigo frowns, clearly uncomfortable. "But what, Don?"
"She had everything." I mutter, my voice flat.
Rigo blinks. "Yes. You...you said so yourself, Don."
I don't answer. I turn back, toward the cracked wall. A dark smear trails toward the broken pillar where she collapsed.
She had everything but looking back something is off.
When you see someone you've tried to kill, and they recognize you, there's a way you respond. A primal flicker. A specific terror that can't be faked.
But she didn't have it.
Was she a new assassin entirely? Meant solely for that day, but got caught before she even began?
It has to be. Because the Butterfly my men and I discovered is too methodical and thorough to be easily...
My mind trails off.
"FUCK!" I exclaim, stamping my fist against the wall.
No…no, no, no. I killed the wrong woman. The realization slams into me.
She played me. The real one. She was here
BUTTERFLY! A roar builds in my chest, one I don't let loose—not here, not now. Instead, I let it churn into something colder
You really are top notch.
She's still out there. And she watched me kill a fake in her place. Making me a fool
"A goddamn FOOL!"
I promise you one thing today.
I WILL FIND YOU!
I vow.
***
One Week Later.
I pace the west wing of the estate, as one thought keeps echoing in my head:
The real assassin is still breathing.
I haven't slept in days—not properly. I've tasted death too many times. Now I taste mistakes.
And fucking pain.
I've been having constant boner every fucking single morning.
I see her in flashes—in a crowd, in reflections, mostly in my dreams where I'm choking on blood or having the best sex of my life.
What am I? Fifteen? like some lovesick boy.
Enzo walks beside me now, his tone cautious. "You need rest. Zen's concerned."
"I'll rest when she's dead."
"Boss, you don't even know who she is yet."
"But she knows who I am. That makes her dangerous."
He falls quiet. He knows not to argue too hard.
I stare at the list Zen gave me. Stress indicators. Cognitive depletion. Trauma patterns.
I don't care.
I killed an innocent girl—no, a decoy. And the real one left me standing in my own lie.
This isn't just pride. This is power. Weakness, and I've worn too much of it lately. The other families—they're watching me. And they are watching for a possible cracks.
I light a cigarette and let it burn slowly between my fingers.
"When I find her," I say quietly, "I'm going to make her last breath a question. I want her to ask me why I didn't just let her kill me that night. I want her to beg for that version instead."
Unknown speakers
Speaker one: "You don't need to worry too much. Our plans to remove him will still proceed even with what he displayed at his party. None of The Consilium are with him now, not after what he did to De Santi. well, except for Morreti and some foreign syndicates."
Speaker two: " That's not an issue. Is the plan to turn Morreti from him coming up well?"
Speaker one: "Likely, Morreti is still adamant, not coinciding with our terms. You know he was a close friend to the last Don of De Luna."
Speaker two: "If he doesn't coincide, he'll be removed. Otherwise he'll become an obstacle to our cause."
Speaker one: "Well spoken."