I even called Hendrix on video again, training the camera on Cassidy's twisted, terrified face.

"Your dog has been biting people outside," I intoned coldly. "If you won't control her, I'll do it for you."

Ten minutes later, Hendrix arrived with fifty men and encircled me. He stepped forward, drew a pistol from his waist, leveled it at my forehead and squeezed the trigger as if testing whether I would flinch. His voice was a cold blade.

"Vienna, you've gone too far."

"Who let you touch Cassidy? You want to die?" he snarled.

On the ground, Cassidy writhed in agony and screamed, "Hendrix, kill this madwoman! Avenge me!"

By the time her cry finished, the tip of my blade was already pressed to her belly.

"Long time no see, Hendrix." I smirked. "If you want revenge, come and take it. But you know what I'll do. If you fire that gun, I promise this bitch will die faster than I will."

I pressed harder with the blade, cutting Cassidy's skin. Blood stained her white dress. Her scream split the air.

"You deserve to die, Vienna! There's not one decent thing left in the Wilson family—your sister dying is what you deserve!"

"Hendrix, what are you waiting for? Do it! Kill her! If you don't, she'll kill me and my child!"

Hendrix's men lunged forward while he studied me for a long moment, teeth clenched. Finally, Hendrix lowered his gun slowly, then shouted, "All of you, get back! I didn't tell you to come here!"

Satisfied, I nodded and wiped the blood from my blade across Cassidy's face until it was clean. "You're smarter than you were five years ago."

Furious, Cassidy opened her mouth to curse; I smashed my fist into her temple. She went limp and fell unconscious.

Hendrix's eyes reddened with anger. "Don't touch her," he warned. "If you want to come at someone, come at me."

"Leila's death was an accident—Cassy had nothing to do with it!" he added, voice rasping.

"I know what you suspect, but I swear to you, I didn't betray Leila before she died. Cassidy and I only got together after... after she was gone."

I kicked the woman on the ground; she responded like rotten meat.

"Hendrix, I will find the truth." I spat the words like a promise. "I'm not like Leila—you know that. I could take the blame and go to prison for her. I could also kill for her. Anyone who hurts her, I won't spare. That includes you."

Hearing her name again, Hendrix shut his eyes as if exhausted. "Vienna, you know I wouldn't raise a hand against you. Leila is gone. I don't want to be your enemy. Let Cassidy go. Let yourself go."

He left with Cassidy. I returned to the tiny home I'd lived in before prison—every trace of my sister had long since been erased. But the scenes of my life five years ago were still seared into my memory.

After our parents were killed by our enemies, Hendrix—the foster brother who became our only support—taught me to kill and to survive. With a cleaver and a gun, he and I took revenge for our parents in a wave of blood. We shared the same vow: protect Leila at any cost.

Then one accident exposed Leila to our enemies; she was taken and tortured for three days and nights. Hendrix alone carried a hundred deaths on his shoulders to bring her back. He was drenched in blood but only cared for Leila's wounds. It was then I realized the man I loved loved my sister.

I wanted my sister to be happy and voluntarily take the blame and go to jail. I never expected news of her death to reach me before her wedding ever happened. The men I sent to investigate said Leila changed after I was imprisoned.

To keep Hendrix from leaving her, my sister once had Cassidy kidnapped—hung from a beam in a factory and beaten until one of her legs broke.

When Hendrix arrived, all he found was an unconscious Cassidy and my sister standing there, holding a bloodstained whip.

He didn't ask a single question. He pinned all the blame on my sister, and from that moment, their relationship shattered completely.

Later, after Cassidy miscarried, she was abducted again—this time for revenge.

But the men hired for the job mistook my sister for Cassidy. The torture was so brutal that she died on the spot.

I clenched the autopsy report in my hands. It clearly stated that my sister had been five months pregnant when she died.

And the child—the child had been cut out of her body while she was still alive.

My tears fell uncontrollably, smudging the ink.

One of my men stood nearby, his face tight with anger. "Miss Vienna, after Miss Leila died, Hendrix was furious. He said she brought it on herself. He wouldn't even hold a funeral for her."

"Now that you're out, should we just...?" He paused, then drew a sharp gesture across his neck.

I gave a cold, humorless laugh. "No hurry."

"She said my sister was vicious, that she wanted revenge?"

"Then I'll show her what cruelty really means."

That night, Cassidy somehow found my number, and she sent me a video.

On the screen, Hendrix's bloodstained hands were tending to her wounds with a gentleness I had never seen from him.

His face was soft with affection—an expression I had never seen before.

Her voice dripped with pride as she mocked, "You think pouring acid on me will make Hendrix despise me? He only loves me more now—he treats me a thousand times better!"

"The more you retaliate, the more he'll think you're dirty. I'm not like you. I'm pure. My hands have never been stained with blood. That dead sister of yours couldn't beat me, and neither can you."

I couldn't help but laugh—a sound colder than the night air.

She thought I'd come this far because of love.

But in this world, the ones who stayed "clean" never last long.

Her lies might fool Hendrix, but not me.

Later, I went into my sister's old room to sort through her belongings—only to find the closet was bare.

Her favorite jewelry—the ones she cherished most—were all gone.

And in Cassidy's social media photos, hanging around her neck, was one of those very pieces. She even captioned: [A gift from my beloved.]

Rage burned low in my chest. I forced myself to stay calm and focused on arranging a proper funeral.

But the morning of the service, an uninvited guest arrived.

Cassidy swaggered into the hall with two lackeys in tow, barking orders while pointing around the room.

"Smash everything that belonged to that bitch!"

"Without my permission, Leila's funeral isn't happening!"

Then she noticed me, feigning surprise, lips curling into a sweet apology.

"Oh, it's Vienna. My apologies. Hendrix said murderers like your sister don't deserve funerals. You wouldn't want to make him angry, would you?"

Her men stormed the hall, knocking over flowers and urns.

I stood still, eyes cold as stone. She leaned close and whispered in my ear, voice dripping venom. "I know you liked Hendrix too. Watching the man you gave up for your sister fell in love with me—it must burn, doesn't it?"

"But too bad. I'm pregnant again. Hendrix and I are getting married soon. Your little circus act ends here."

Then her expression darkened, voice sharp as glass.

"Vienna, if you dare touch me, you'll die for it."

She suddenly slapped herself several times, tore her own dress, and collapsed to the ground sobbing.

"Miss Wilson, I never offended you! Why are you doing this to me?"

"Leila tried to kill me five years ago—I forgave her! What more do you want from me?"

"Please, just let me live. I don't want anything anymore... I just want to live!"

I reflexively drew a dagger to strike.

A shadow lunged from behind and slammed a foot into my chest, sending me flying ten meters. I crashed into the wall hard and staggered to my feet, meeting Hendrix's cold, furious gaze.

"I told you—don't touch Cassidy!" he barked.

"Leila's death had nothing to do with her. She brought it on herself!"

He pulled Cassidy protectively behind him, the same way he once shielded my sister. Seeing the rage flare in his face, I laughed—bitter and scornful.

"Hendrix, you know Leila better than I do," I spat. "You really believe she would hurt someone? If she were capable of such cruelty, our parents wouldn't have died that night."

When our parents were silenced, my sister was the only one left at home. She'd been hidden trembling in a wardrobe, too terrified even to speak. I spent six months guiding her through therapy until she could barely breathe past the memory. It was then I learned the man I loved loved my sister.

Hendrix's expression hardened; his voice icier than before.

"Leila wasn't that kind of person. But she had a sister like you. If not for you, she wouldn't have gone astray!"

"Vienna, you never reflect on yourself. Your arrogance killed your parents, and your cruelty killed Leila. After all these years, you still don't see it?"

"You're the source of all evil—the real murderer!"

Each accusation stabbed through me like a dull knife, cutting deep but leaving me numb.

Beside him, Cassidy began to sob pitifully.

"It's all my fault," she whimpered. "If I hadn't come, Ran wouldn't be so angry. Even though she hit me, I don't blame her. Just take it as me repaying my debt to Leila…"

Her fake tears glistened under the dim light, and rage flooded through me.

In a blink, I lunged forward, stomped on her calf, and forced her to kneel. My hand clamped on her hair as I slammed her forehead into the ground—right in front of my sister's portrait.

"You called me cruel?" I hissed. "Then let me show you cruelty!"

The sound of her skull hitting the floor echoed in the hall.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Hendrix drew his pistol and pressed the muzzle to my temple. There was a sharp snap as he pulled the trigger.

Cassidy screamed hysterically.

"Hendrix! Save me! Vienna has gone insane! Do something!"

Sneering, I spat, "Weren't you just saying you don't blame me? Cassidy, what are you playing? Who are you pretending to be pitiful for?"

I hauled her up by the throat and shoved her until she faced my sister's photograph.

"Look at my sister's face. Everything you have today wasn't earned—it was given to you by Leila!" I leaned close enough to breathe on her. "Too bad I'm not Leila. When I kill, I don't hold back."

Hendrix's whole body trembled, his voice hoarse with fury.

"Enough!" he roared. "Vienna, how far are you going to go?"

"Leila is gone! She's dead! No amount of revenge will bring her back!"

I lifted my sister's framed photo and placed it between us. My smile was more painful than tears.

"Then do it," I said softly. "Shoot me, right here, in front of Leila."

"You broke your promise once already—what's one more time?"

Cassidy crawled to Hendrix's legs, clutching them desperately.

"Shoot her! What are you waiting for? As long as she's alive, my child and I will never be safe!"

The room fell silent.

Hendrix's gaze locked on my sister's smiling face in the photo. For a long time, he didn't move. Then, with a heavy breath, he lowered the gun.

His voice was quiet but resolute. "Vienna don't make any more mistakes."