Melody's POV
Working with Darius felt like dancing with fire.
Every smile he offered hid something sharper. Every answer came wrapped in riddles. But I played along. I listened. I asked questions I already knew the answers to just to see what he'd say.
I didn't do it for Marvis. I did it for my parents.
And for the rage that still clawed beneath my ribs, begging to be fed.
"I don't trust people easily," Darius said one night as he passed me a glass of wine. "But you... you're different. You don't ask too many questions. You're calm. Smart."
"Not smart enough to stay away from you," I said with a tight smile.
He laughed. "Maybe that's why I like you."
That was the first time I saw it his guard lower.
That was also the night he slipped.
A name. A date.
A whispered mention of a job from the past.
And I knew.
He hadn't pulled the trigger. But he knew who did. He gave the order. He approved the hit that left my parents in a pool of blood ten years ago.
All this time, he'd been walking free.
I didn't cry. I just smiled. And I waited. It happened fast.
We were in the car. He had turned off his phone. Told his guards to stay back.
He trusted me.
I reached into my coat and pulled out the syringe. One stab. Quick. Clean. Quiet.
He looked at me betrayal and confusion battling in his eyes.
"Why?" he gasped, slumping.
I leaned in.
"For my mother. And my father."
He died before he could speak another word.
I left his body there, in the alley near the pier.
The next day, the news exploded. A mystery killing. No signs. No footage. Just a whisper.
But Marvis knew.
He didn't come to me. Didn't call.
But I saw the way he looked at me that night from across the street. Standing near his car. Silent.
Like he knew everything.
And yet...
I didn't say a word. Neither did he.
Because now he knew what I was capable of.