At the Belmore mansion—the very home Magnus had taken from Crescentia and her sister—Magnus stormed into the sitting room, yanking his tie loose and throwing it at the couch in frustration.
They had just returned from the hospital after taking Lucian in, but Magnus hadn't cared to stay and hear what the doctor had to say. He left as soon as he could, his fury over what had happened at the funeral boiling over.
"Did you know Crescentia was dating Damian Lorenzo?" he demanded, his voice sharp as he turned to Juliette.
Juliette, who had also left the hospital after informing Lucian's parents of the incident, shook her head. "She never told me anything."
"Then how the hell did they meet, and why are they suddenly in a relationship?" he snapped, the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him. He knew the consequences if Crescentia started speaking to the wrong people—especially Damian.
Juliette scoffed, settling onto the couch with an air of annoyance. "Dad, you don't seriously believe they're in a relationship, do you? There's no way a man like that is in love with her. Maybe she's just his bed warmer or something. Besides, aren't his father and her father enemies or something?"
From her seat, Victoria gasped, her manicured nails tightening around the crystal glass of juice a servant had handed her earlier.
"That makes more sense," she said, sitting up straighter. "Damian Lorenzo isn't just any man, and Crescentia is desperate for money." She paused, the realization striking her like lightning. "What if she went to him for Noella's medical bills?" Her expression twisted in disgust. "That little brat!"
Magnus exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Even so, she's connected to Damian now, and that's the last thing we need. If she starts running her mouth about her suspicions—if she so much as hints that we were behind her parents' deaths—he'll dig until he finds out everything."
Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he wiped them away with the back of his palm.
"Believe me father, I don't think his interest in her is strong enough for him to stress himself out, figuring things out that doesn't concern him in any way."
Juliette, who had only been speculating earlier, suddenly found herself hoping she was right. The thought of Crescentia having someone like Damian in her life—someone better than her—was unbearable.
All her life, she had envied Crescentia.
Crescentia's parents were wealthier. Their mansion was grander. They had always given Crescentia everything she wanted. Even Lucian, the man Juliette had stolen so easily because Crescentia never gave him what he wanted—had once belonged to Crescentia. And worst of all, people had compared her to Crescentia's beauty—a comparison Juliette could never win.
She clenched her jaw. Crescentia had to have done something to secure that money. There was no doubt about it.
"We should get rid of her," Victoria said firmly, her gaze cold. "From the beginning, Crescentia made it clear she was going to be a problem. We should eliminate her before she does something we can't fix."
Magnus considered it. The funeral had just happened. If Crescentia suddenly turned up dead, he would be the first suspect—especially after she had already hinted to the media that her parents' deaths were no accident.
His fists clenched in frustration. He hated it, but he had no choice.
"We wait," he finally said. "At least a week. Let things settle first. If she dies too soon, the media will have our heads."
Juliette sighed, crossing her arms. "This is why I told you to get rid of her the same day you got rid of her parents."
The day he had orchestrated the deaths of his brother and his wife, they had been on their way to pick up Crescentia and Noella from school. Juliette had suggested waiting until all four of them were in the car, but Magnus had refused.
Crescentia had always been a respectful and timid girl. He hadn't expected Crescentia to be such a thorn in his side.
"I didn't see it coming," he admitted, disappointed in himself.
In the middle of nowhere
At a secluded cliffside overlooking the city, Damian took a slow drag from his cigarette, watching as the lights below flickered against the darkness.
"That's your second pack already," a voice spoke from the shadows beside him. Damian didn't bother looking—he knew who it was.
"You can count now? That's an improvement," he remarked dryly, bringing the cigarette back to his lips for another pull.
Christian scoffed, stepping forward and settling onto the ground beside him. Without warning, he plucked the cigarette from Damian's fingers and tossed it over the edge of the cliff.
Damian shot him a glare before reaching into his pockets and pulling out a dagger. Then he placed it on the ground—a silent warning. Christian was unfazed. "Is this about your hooker?"
Damian exhaled through his nose, unbothered as he lit another cigarette. He let the smoke swirl around him before answering.
"What about her?"
"She doesn't want to see me after my grandmother's birthday," he replied.
Christian took a sip from his drink, then shrugged. "So? You paid her. You got what you wanted. It would only be weird if the both of you kept seeing each other."
Damian's jaw tightened.
"Sex with her is different," he muttered.
Christian choked mid-sip, coughing as he spat some of his liquor onto the ground—some of it landing on Damian.
Damian itched to grab the dagger.
Christian wheezed, still recovering. "I never thought I'd hear you say something so cringe. Damian, she's a hooker. Hookers have experience. They know how to make you think they're different. Isn't that part of their training or something?"
Damian said nothing. He just took another drag, letting the memory of her skin against his, the way her body fit so perfectly beneath him, the sound of her voice, the softness of her touch—all of it—wash over him.
He exhaled.
'I've gone mad.'