Page 4 of Sardonic Burn

Jane is scared. I see it in her eyes.

My heart aches for her. It’s difficult to not only change houses and schools, but also to be on a different continent than the rest of your family. She’s too young to be on her own, which is why I’m afraid of how she’ll cope once she’s in Russia.

“You’ll be okay,” I whisper and kiss the top of her head. “Niko will come in the spring to be with you.”

Jane sniffles and slowly puts distance between us, staring up at me with teary eyes. “Promise?”

I smile. “I promise.”

Niko is our brother, the middle child. He’s two years younger than me and will finish his studies in the spring. He’ll be able to look after Jane for a couple of years, though I’ve yet to ask him. I doubt he’ll say no, since he’s still pissed about not being named the official heir. It will give him time to cool off.

Jane leaves my room soon after, and I find the perfect outfit. It’s a gift from my mother that I got for Christmas. It’s a baby-pink dress that reaches just around my thighs, leaving enough room for me to have a knife on the upper part of my thigh.

I pick my favorite ring, which is a ruby with a little hidden compartment underneath the jewel. It’s big enough to put a drug inside and easily slip it into his drink.

All of the people working for the De Santis family have an upside-down cross tattoo on their right wrists. I bribed one of their men last year to take a picture of it and send it to me, so now I’m prepared. One of my own has the tattoo on his wrist, ready to listen to my commands.

The plan is fairly simple.

I’ll go to their club while my man takes over the position of Franco’s chauffeur. After I slip the drugs in his drink undetected and flirt with him a little bit, he’ll want to take me home.

He’s never been discreet with how frequently he spends time with different women, and that works in my favor perfectly. He prefers blondes, which is the reason behind this wig.

As soon as I arrive, I walk inside and make my way toward the bar. There’s barely any space left, but I manage to squeeze myself through, trying to seem like I’m not out of place.

It’s my first time visiting their club. As expected, it’s extravagant and filled with people. Since the party is in full swing, everyone is either getting drunk or dancing. The loud music fits the scene before me perfectly.

I order a martini neat and carefully observe the bartender as he pours my drink. I’m still reluctant to drink anything from this place but in order to blend in, I’ll have to at least order something.

I’m looking around with my palm covering the glass. Being too careful isn’t a thing. In this world, it’s either kill or be killed.And I’ll be damned if these bastards will ever be able to lay their filthy hands on me.

I spot Franco De Santis in the corner of the room surrounded by three blonde women. They’re laughing and touching him, and he’s enjoying it. A smirk is attached to his face, and it’s obvious to everyone what will happen later in the night.

I’m contemplating how to approach him. He has three guards on him, and, to anyone else, he probably looks like the heir to the mafia throne. However, he’s just one of the people the mafia will use as pawns if necessary.

He’s overestimating his value by a lot and doesn’t seem to think it’ll all catch up to him quickly.

The more I look at him, the angrier I get.

They killed one of my favorite people in the world. My aunt didn’t stand a chance in her state, and they took advantage of it. Now, it’s time for him to see how strong karma can be.

I’ll be the villain of his story, and I love every aspect of that. I want this entire family to hate me until they’re so absorbed by their hatred that they won’t see me coming.

I’ll slash their necks without mercy.

With a little shake of my head, I take a deep breath. This isn’t the time or place for me to act like that. Instead, I focus on slowly approaching him.

I walk confidently with my drink. It’s hard to get through the thick crowd of people, but I manage without spilling the alcohol all over myself. The guards are immediately on alert. They straighten their posture and stare at me.

I stumble over my heels and land on my knees, spilling the drink on Franco.

This is going to leave a nasty bruise, and I’m already pissed that I have to go to such lengths to get the attention of a simpleton.

“I’m so sorry.” A tear rolls down my cheek. “Are you okay? I’ll buy you a drink as an apology.”

By now, Franco is wiping his ruined shirt with a cloth, but the anger seems to disappear as soon as he looks at me. A wide grin spreads across his face, and he tosses the cloth to the side, dismissing the women he is with.

He takes a step forward and extends his hand.

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