Page 114 of Scorching Sienna

“Spectre Eventer. Spectre, as in ghost. And Eventer means horse or rider. Ghost Rider. Very clever. And then there is Bright Simpson. The name of the ghost rider's girlfriend. Roxanne Simpson. The meaning of Roxanne is bright.” Her eyes flash with surprise. She never thought I would figure it out. Her self-confidence and overestimation of her intelligence have led to her downfall.

“You knew about my tattoo in honor of Nicolo and used it in your sick and twisted game. One you almost succeeded at had it not been for Sienna.”

Sip. Silence.

“This little fable is cute, but you have no evidence, Damon.”

“In my world, Julia, I don’t need evidence. Did you think the law would deal with this?” She pales at the reality of my words, finallyunderstanding that it didn’t matter if I could prove it. If I believed it, she was fucked.

Her only chance now was putting on an act.

Cue performance.

“Okay, okay,” she says, leaning forward so that her demeanor is no longer confident. She is going to play the victim.

“I did help Lowrens, but I had no idea he would do that to her. I swear.” Her empathy act is lacking, probably because she has never really felt that emotion.

“You released it on the internet.” She pales further when she hears the venom in my voice, her hand reaching out to touch mine before I pull it back.

“I was mad. Because I love you, Damon. And I was mad because you picked her over me, after all my years of pining for you. I even killed Nicolo for you, for us,” she says, rising from her chair to kneel on the floor beside me.

“I just want you to look at me like you look at her.” Tears pour down her eyes, the first real emotions I have ever seen on her face. Her hands claw at my thighs while her tear-rimmed eyes plead with me.

“You know about obsession, Damon. You know what it can make a person do. You and I are the same. That’s why I love you because I know you can understand me.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong, but she wasn’t right either. We are not the same. The love she spoke of was not real. If it really came down to it, she would kill me first to save herself.

I would always pick Sienna over myself.

“We are not the same.” I shake my leg free from her grasp and stand up, the steps coming from the entrance to the rooftop restaurant right on time.

“Damon, it has been a long time.”

“No,” Julia whispers, her eyes wide as she rises to face the man whose hand I have just shaken.

I turn to face her, her eyes darting between me and the new addition to our party.

“You remember Nicolo's brother, Daniil?”

She shakes her head, denying the impending doom.

“While I am a man of my word and cannot break the promise I made to your husband as he lay dying in my arms, a promise not to kill you, it doesn’t mean someone else can’t do it for me.” I smile when Daniil steps forward, followed by two guards.

Silence. Scream.

Julia is dragged away, her black heels and a trail of piss following.

“Remember your promise to me. It will be painful and not over fast.”

Daniil smiles, one that speaks of the evil he will inflict.

“Of course. Thank you, Damon. I can finally be at ease knowing Nicolo’s death has been avenged. I owe you a debt.” And then he is gone, and I am alone on the rooftop.

Being indebted to the Russian Mafia was never a bad position to be in.

As I stand there, under a clear starry night, I feel something Being me that I have not felt in ages.

Peace.

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