Page 176 of The Beautiful Dead

At the top of the stairs, Casius stood waiting, a glimmer of surprise flickering across his face when he noticed Remi. It soured quickly.

I smirked and let the silence hang between us, dragging it out, savoring the discomfort spreading over his face like an oil spill.

“Domino, a pleasure.” He held out a hand to me.

I stared at it. Let the air go thick and heavy before I finally tilted my head, eyeing it like it was infected. He dropped it. Smart.

“What can I do for you tonight?”

Remi huffed a sardonic laugh, slipping past Casius like a wolf circling its prey, skimming the artwork with an air of casual disinterest. It was a mockery. A performance.

Casius doesn’t even realize that he is already dead.

“My husband is an artist.”

Remi froze. That single word hung between us like a knife on a taut thread.

Casius’s brows lifted. “Husband?”

I ignored him. Remi didn’t turn, didn’t react beyond the slight twitch of his fingers, the slow curl of his shoulders. A shiver ran through me.Mine.

“He has always appreciated others’ works but was interested in hosting his own exhibition.”

Casius blinked. Then smiled—thin, forced. “That’s wonderful. What’s his style?”

Remi snickered, vanishing behind a curtain. “The macabre.”

Casius stiffened. “Uh, you can’t go back there?—”

Wrong move.

I was already there, closing the distance, my fist wrapped around his wrist, wrenching it behind his back. His body jerked. A breathless, startled gasp. My other hand curled tight aroundhis throat, squeezing just enough to feel his pulse hammering against my palm. He trembled in my hold.

Slow. Measured. Methodical. “And why can’t he go back there?” My voice was ice, licking up his skin like the first whisper of a blade.

His lips pinched tight. His eyes darted to the corners of the room. Searching. Hoping.

I chuckled. “No one is coming.”

Casius sucked in a sharp breath. “W-what?”

“We took out your security before we stepped inside. No one knows you’re not alone. No one will know the last people that came to visit you…”

His body went rigid. His breath shuddered against my knuckles. “What do you mean, the last people?” His voice cracked.

Pathetic.I leaned in and let my lips graze his ear. “This will be your last meeting, Mr. Moreau.”

His mouth parted in a silent scream, but before sound could escape, a flash of silver glinted in the dim light. A blade. Thin, sharp, hungry. The edge teased against Casius’ throat above my fingers, pressing just enough to draw a thin bead of red.

Casius whimpered.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Remi’s voice was a purr, his knife spinning between his fingers with lethal ease as he stepped back.

Casius whipped his head around, only now realizing Remi was beside him. A fool. A dead man. “W-w-why not?”

Remi smiled. A small, sick, sadistic thing. “Because I know everything you’ve done.” He chuckled, dragging the tip of his blade down Casius’ jawline, light enough to tickle. “I’ve spoken with your victims. I’ve seen the bodies. What did the poor girl hanging by her neck do?”

Casius thrashed, kicking out in panic. Remi danced away, laughing. Effortless. Elegant. A predator toying with his meal.

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