Page 149 of The Beautiful Dead

She flinched, eyes going wide as he stepped into her space.

“S-sorry,” she whimpered, and then ran, disappearing into the crowd.

I chuckled, low and quiet. “Possessive much?”

Instead of answering, Domino crushed me against him. Caging. Consuming. His hands framed my face, thumbs stroking over my cheekbones, his presence suffocating in the best way.

His gaze drilled into mine, blackened with obsession.

“You are the only thing I see.”

His lips crashed into mine, a brutal claim, his tongue tangled with mine like he was branding me from the inside out. People were watching, their stares raising the hairs on the back of my neck—some envious, some horrified.

I didn’t care. Neither did he. When he finally pulled away, my mind spun, my body aching from the loss. And then I saw him.

Casius Moreau.

A devil wrapped in fine tailoring, his laughter a blade disguised as silk. He stood in the center of the gallery, holding court, a predator among sheep, his voice rich with charm—but his eyes…

His eyes betrayed him.

They flicked to the girl at his side, a delicate, trembling thing, her head bowed, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to disappear. His gaze crawled over her like she was something to be devoured.

Something inside me snarled. He was the kind of monster that needed to be exterminated. He thrived on suffering, bathed in the misery of the weak, and called it art.

Soon, he would become my greatest masterpiece.

His breaths were numbered. I would be his judge, jury, and executioner.

“Welcome.” Casius’s smile was a well-rehearsed lie, straight white teeth gleaming as he held out his hand, the confidence of a man who thought himself untouchable.

He wasn’t.

Domino loomed beside me, his monster pacing behind his eyes.

“Casius.” His tone was clipped. He didn’t take the offered hand.

The rejection left Moreau floundering, his smile faltering before he masked it with forced charm.

While his attention was focused on Domino, I wondered how his blood would look painting these walls.

How best to display his corpse for maximum effect… when they eventually found him.

Would they be horrified? Or amazed? Would they see the beauty in my creation?

Casius cleared his throat, his mask settling back into place. “Thank you for coming to the opening of my gallery, showcasing my latest exhibition.”

Domino arched a brow. “It’s not your gallery, though, is it?”

Casius flinched. “Well, I mean…”

The air thickened, and tension crawled across my skin like ants. The crowd around us thinned, sensing danger but too self-absorbed to truly acknowledge it.

“It’s all thanks to the Mayor, isn’t it?” Domino continued, voice laced with something sharp. A trap closing.

Casius swallowed. “No one in this industry gets anywhere without investors. Artists don’t earn big right away?—”

“But it’s not money that drives you, is it?” I cut in smoothly.

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