Page 9 of Sardonic Burn

When will this feud end? It was quiet for a decade before Franco stupidly had one of the Campbell women killed—smothered in her sleep in a hospital bed. I won’t ignore that he went about it in all the wrong ways and that he deserved what was coming for him, but he was still my flesh and blood.

I won’t allow that goddamned bitch to have the last laugh.

“I’ll fix this,” I say, clenching my jaw as a snowflake falls on my face. “I promise, in my time as the head of the family, I’ll burn the Campbells to the ground until there’s nothing left of them.”

“Good.”

We stay in the same place for a while, both of us silent. There isn’t anything left to say, and I don’t want to ask him too many questions right now. This title—this role—didn’t belong to me, and I can’t help but feel as if I’ve stolen Franco’s glory.

I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate that woman.

Sure, our families have been in this feud for four generations, excluding ours, but I never truly hated them. The biggest wars and killings happened before my time, so I didn’t witness anything.

But last night…

She fucking mocked me.

She fucking dared to mock me.

In cold blood, she took my brother’s life. After taking a good look at his body, I saw that she’d slit his throat twice, as if to ensure he’d be truly dead. I’m not merciful enough to let this go or to simply kill her.

Once I’m done with Noelle Campbell, she’ll wish she was never born. But before killing her, I’ll break her into a million pieces, and she won’t even see it coming. I’ll make sure she regrets ever crossing my path, and I won’t stop until her blood is on my hands.

With that, I walk out of my brother’s funeral and jump into the backseat of my car. Immediately, the driver speeds off, and I have my phone pressed against my ear. It takes two rings before Milo picks up the phone.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I didn’t call you to exchange pleasantries. I need you to do something for me.”

Milo is silent for a moment. “I’m kinda busy. What do you need?”

“Anything and everything on Noelle Campbell.”

He pauses, as if trying to realize if he heard me correctly.

“What?”

I clench my jaw. “She killed Franco.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Because it’s her, it’ll cost you extra.”

“I don’t care. Just get it done quickly.”

I hang up the phone and toss it aside. My eyes close as the scene of finding my brother’s body replays in my mind on repeat, like a broken record. His lifeless, dull eyes. The blood gushing out of his throat.

But most importantly, that fucking look of deviance in her eyes.

Noelle was fucking excited that I caught her in the act. She was thrilled that the result of her actions was going to lead to a war. She was fucking so damn happy that she took my brother’s life.

If I’d been only two minutes earlier, I might’ve been able to prevent it.

No.

It’s useless to think like that. Even if I caught her right before she slit his throat, she would’ve looked me straight in the eyes and did it while I watched.

That woman is the devil and not in disguise.

She doesn’t care how she’s seen or what people perceive her as. That will end up being her fucking undoing as I send her where she belongs.

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