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Revenge

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Chapter 1: Revenge (Rose's POV)

Revenge was often a crime of passion. It was as wickedly human as an emotion could be. It could never be concealed beneath a facade of virtue, couldn't nestle itself within the confines of morality. 

Revenge was real. Honest. Raw. Revenge was ruthless and brutal. But tonight wasn't about revenge for all of us. 

It was about Tchaikovsky, his misery, and one of the masterpieces it created; Swan Lake. Shadows lingered in every note of the composition as we watched ballerinas dance across the stage. 

The Metropolitan Opera House was flooded with New York's corrupt and elite that night; every corner was being used for deals so immoral and bargains tainted by ill intent. 

I suppressed a sigh of agitation as the whispers around me continued, men mercilessly ruining the performance for what they called business in our world. Unable to enjoy the show, my eyes began drifting from the stage and to the crowd below while I observed from one of the balconies up above. 

My parents were undoubtedly in attendance, hidden somewhere within the audience, and my older brother was lodged right beside me, networking in his own ways, but I was here for my own reasons tonight. 

Better yet, I was here for Marshall's reasons. Although the case wasn't entirely mine to work on, I was called for backup, and I intended to help as best as I could. I was firmly instructed to stick to orders and complete the mission. 

In other words, I had a man to kill at The Opera tonight. 

My hand absentmindedly drifted up to my earrings as I continued to fidget with them, watching the two men converse in hushed whispers a few rows down from me. A moment later, one of them rose out of his seat and left the theater with his phone buzzing in his palm. 

There goes my victim. 

Exactly eight minutes later, I followed. "Dom," I whispered softly, turning to him once I cleared my throat. 

Pausing his conversation, he briefly turned to me. "Yes, Rose?" he asked. 

"I need to step out for a moment." 

He warned quietly, "Rose." 

"Dominic," I mocked, tipping my head to one side. 

"Don't let Dad catch you," he hushed me as I rose to my feet. 

With one final look at him over my shoulder, I slipped out of my seat and gathered my dress, silently walking up the steps and escaping through the back door, entering the main foyer. With the entire crowd nestled inside the theater, the lobby was deserted and deafeningly silent. 

My footsteps were muffled against the scarlet carpet as I wandered down the halls, glancing at the photographs on display while dim, amber lights casted a honey-gold hue over the place. 

The venue was huge, which meant he couldn't have gone too far. 

I continued strolling leisurely, my hands clasped together behind my back while the fabric of my black satin dress hugged my hips and waist, flowing down to my heels while a sleek Kanzashi hair pain held my hair up into a twisted bun with a few strands slipping loose around my face. 

Kanzashis had a history of being used as lethal weapons in Japan, but here, they were a rarity and almost never suspected to be a murder weapon, merely an accessory. Elegant, rare, and yet deadly. 

I continued searching the halls until I finally found the man hiding in a tucked away corner, out of sight to anybody in passing. 

He viciously dialed his phone, pacing back and forth, making one call after another. "Did you secure the package?" he demanded. "Then check again, damn it! It should have arrived by now. We're not talking about small quantities here." 

A drug deal. How typical. 

"What about the mules? What did you do with them?" 

I listened in, hovering near the corner as I leaned against the wall, biding my time. 

"Get rid of their bodies. It shouldn't be too hard. Five kids is all you're dealing with." A beat later, he went quiet, which meant he'd hung up the phone. 

Pushing off the wall, I stepped forward and into the light, now standing in his path and blocking the only way out. "Smuggling drugs in and out of the city, and that too by using children as your drug mules, Mr. Murray?" I clicked my tongue in disapproval. "That's below the belt, isn't it?" 

Lifting a hand, I grabbed the Kanzashi hairpin and tugged it out, letting my hair fall down my back in loose waves while I spun the dagger-like pin between my fingers, firming my grip on it. 

"Excuse me?" he scoffed at me. I stared at him blankly, merely lifting my brows. 

"You're excused," I replied dryly. 

Ignorantly, he tried to side-step me. I shifted my weight, blocking his path. He tried again, but I stood my ground, bracing a hand on the wall. 

"I'm afraid I can't let you go, Mr. Murray," I said softly, taking a step forward, cornering him. I twirled the pin between my fingers, the sharp end pricking my finger until a single drop of blood pooled on the surface. 

Realization finally settled in his eyes. "Who sent you?" he asked. 

"I cannot disclose that information." 

"Whoever it is, however much he's paying you... I'll double it, Rose," he began, a surge of desperation washing over him as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. He wasn't going to survive the night, and I was sent to make sure of it. 

"If you tried that line on my father, it would have worked on him," I shrugged a shoulder. "Unfortunately, the blood flowing through my veins isn't thick enough to corrupt me, Mr. Murray. My morals are far stronger than that." 

His jaw ticked as he eyed me, looking for a way to escape. 

"I'm here on behalf of all those children you've killed," I said, taking another step forward, "I'm here for their revenge." 

I saw it coming when he reached for my throat, and my movements came with ease, force flowing through my body like liquid as I caught his wrist and pinned his arm down, lifting my knee through the slit in my dress to his abdomen, knocking the air out of him. 

As he coughed and sputtered, I firmly gripped his collar, using all my strength to smash him against the wall until his head ricocheted off of it, bringing a groan of pain from his lips which sounded like fucking music to my ears. 

His knees buckled as I stabbed his thigh with the sharp edge of the Kanzashi pin, and as he slid down to the ground, I firmly clamped his own handkerchief against his mouth, muffling his screams. 

Driving the pin into his throat, I pierced through his flesh, blood squirting out and spilling onto the walls, only to trickle down and be absorbed by the carpet below. Cautious of my stance and my dress, I went in a second time, resisting as he used both hands to claw at me in an attempt to escape. 

"I want you to imagine," I whispered despite my labored breathing as I panted, "what those kids felt, what their final thoughts must have been when your men killed them mercilessly." 

His eyes went wide, his movements frantic as I cut off his airflow, suffocating him as he bled out. 

"I want you to feel death as they did," I huffed, "when the life was being snuffed out of them." I held out for as long as it took, blood trickling down his clothes as I slit the rest of his throat with my hairpin while asphyxiating him with what belonged to him. 

A heavy sigh heaved my chest as he finally went limp beneath me, and I caught my breath, standing upright, staring down at his lifeless body. 

This was mercy. If I had it my way, he would have been tortured until he begged for death. 

Lifting the back of my hand to my nose, I wiped away and took a quick glance around before crouching down. Yanking my pin out of his neck, I wiped it clean with the handkerchief before tossing the fabric beside him. 

"Oops," I whispered, stepping over the pool of blood before me and re-entering the hallway. Smoothing a hand over my dress, I began making my way back to the theater and twisted my hair back up, securing the pin in a bun once again. 

It was then that I felt a presence behind me as I walked, footsteps matching my own, lacking synchronicity by a mere beat. 

"Well played, Ms. Chen," he said. 

That voice...

My feet slowed to a halt as I finished tying up my hair and let my arms drop to my sides. An annoyed sigh escaped me as I spun around and faced him. 

Kai fucking Warner. 

Impatiently, I lifted a brow. "Can I help you, Mr. Warner?" 

With an amused smirk playing on his lips, he continued to stroll forward, each step bringing him closer to me. 

Adorning a classic black tux and a crisp white button-up, he looked as charmingly clean as he always did. Not one thing was improper, not a single hair on his head was out of place. His bow tie sat perfectly straight, and his rich black hair was neatly combed back, only a single strand betraying him to fall over his eyes that twinkled with challenge and dare. 

When his gaze met mine, a spark of hatred flared up in them. His almond eyes often contradicted the coldness within him, shining with a hint of charm and his monolids were the epitome of beauty in the culture we belonged to. 

Visually, there was not one thing about this man that a woman like me could despise... which only made me hate him more. 

"Frank Murray," he said. "You're the agent Marshall finally assigned that case to." 

I tipped my chin up to meet his gaze. "What's it to you?" I asked. 

"That case should have been mine," he said, his jaw ticking in anger as he kept his hands tucked away in his pockets. 

"Then you should have taken it when he offered it to you," I bit back. "The FBI can't afford to wait on anybody, Your Highness. Not even you." 

His brow twitched up. 

"Humble yourself," I scoffed, "you're not that special. While you run your Daddy's empire, some of us have missions to complete." 

"Careful, Ms. Chen. You wound me," he said dryly, lifting a hand to his chest. 

My eyes narrowed at his antics. 

It was always a competition. Unsaid, unspoken. But always a rivalry. Call it tradition, if you will. The Warner-Chen feud had been running in our bloodlines for decades, engraved in my mind since I was born. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but never a Warner; never Kai. 

One learned what one was taught, and coming from a family of liars, snakes, and manipulators, Kai was no saint. He would always try to steal what was mine, always try to beat me in every game. I couldn't let it happen. I wouldn't. 

His eyes scanned my face for several seconds before drifting to the slope of my neck. "You might as well scream bloody murder yourself," he mused, lifting a hand to touch me. 

I swatted it away almost immediately. "Hands to yourself, Warner." 

"Easy there, Chen," he smirked, clearly entertained. 

I don't know what about me he finds so fucking amusing. It's like I give him the thrill of his life, that asshole. 

Lifting his thumb to his mouth, he lightly sucked on it before brushing it along my skin where my collarbone met my neck. "You've got blood on you," he said. 

"Hmm," I hummed, pushing his hand off. "Touch me again, and it'll be yours." 

His brows shot up in mock surprise. "Oh, I'm terrified," he said sarcastically, "please don't hurt me." 

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Go fuck yourself, Mr. Warner." I spun around to leave, stopping immediately when I felt him tug the Kanzashi hairpin out of my hair. 

Gasping quietly, I turned back around, a scream of frustration crawling up my throat. Only the moment I faced him, he stepped forward, invading my space entirely when his body brushed against mine, and he lifted the sharp edge to my chin. 

"Next time you take what's mine, Ms. Chen," he paused, trailing the weapon down my throat, "I won't be so kind." 

My eyes fell to the non-existent distance between us, watching where his chest met mine before I looked at him once again. "That's your problem, isn't it? Being a Warner, you always assume everything you want will be handed to you," I told him, "but you know what? The world doesn't work that way. If you want something, you need to fight for it." 

His eyes bore into mine, and for several minutes, we stood in silence, waiting to see who would break. No one moved, no one even blinked. Our breaths were in sync, our bodies rigid, holding back. 

"I'll get my revenge," he finally said, lifting the pin off my skin, "it's what I do best." Brushing past me as his arm met my shoulder, he sauntered off in his bubble of arrogance. 

Scoffing, I spun around and watched him pause at one of the theater doors. 

Turning to me, he lightly tipped his head forward in greeting. "Ms. Chen," he said before opening the door and slipping inside. 

God, I fucking hate him.

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Chapter 1

Writing the first chapter is always either really easy or really hard for me, so this one took a while, but here it is!!

Show it some love, please, so leave a lot of comments if you can <3

next ch: nemesis

btw, outfits are the first comment

💋