Page 3 of Sardonic Burn

They chose the worst time to attack. It’s the holiday season; you’d think they would be busy preparing for the festivities, especially after what they did two months ago.

One of my aunts on dad’s side, Luciella, was murdered in her hospital bed. She’d been in a bad car accident. A drunken driver had hit her, and she was slowly but surely recovering. Until someone came into her room, managing to sneak past the guards and then smother her with a pillow.

We all know who did it.

And now they’re targeting me.

During Luciella’s funeral, I wanted to rebel and put a stop to it, once and for all. My father told me it wasn’t time yet and that he wanted to mourn his sister in peace, so I allowed it.

Now, with full authority, it’s time for the Campbells to strike back.

And my target is none other than the next head of the family, Franco De Santis.

“I’m not going,” Jane protests, folding her arms in front of her chest. She all but cries at the littlest mention of her leaving the States. If there was even the slightest possibility of her being safe here, I wouldn’t be so adamant about sending her abroad.

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you and you’re going.”

She throws me a dirty glare. “I have friends here. Everything is here.”

“You’ll make friends over there, too. I’m not risking your safety for your comfort, and I won’t apologize. Who knows? It might not be until you’re an adult, or it could be sooner.”

Her eyes narrow at me in suspicion. “What are the chances of that happening?”

I give her a tight smile. “It all depends on your departure date. Which is tomorrow, by the way.”

Jane groans and starts throwing a tantrum.

I shut out all of her complaints and focus on finishing getting ready. It’s already nine o’clock in the evening and if I continue to act lazy, I’ll miss the window of opportunity. I don’t have the luxury of doing that.

While Jane is still busy ranting about her displeasure of going abroad, I put on a blonde wig. I’m not an expert, but it doesn’t look half-bad. It’s probably because the wig is high quality, and I have beginner's luck when I put it on.

Does beginner's luck count in this instance?

Once I’m done with everything, I look at myself in the mirror. I’m unrecognizable—an entirely different person.

Instead of my deep, brown eyes, the blue contacts look foreign to me. I’m used to wearing contacts because of my poor eyesight, so switching them for a colored pair seemed good enough.

The blonde wig truly ties it together. Unless he stares at me, thinking I look familiar, there’s not a chance he’ll be ableto recognize me. Especially with the bangs that I don’t normally have.

“Where are you going?”

I turn to look at Jade while rummaging through my closet, trying to pick an outfit.

“Out.”

“Out where?”

I groan. “What are you, my mother? Stop asking me useless questions and get ready for bed.”

“Are you going to do something dangerous?”

“Of course.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

With a sigh, I walk over to her. She’s sitting on the bed, fiddling with her fingers on her lap. Jane’s eyes find mine and swell with tears.

I hug her tightly, and it’s all it takes for her to break down. She’s sobbing into my shirt, clutching onto me tightly.

---