Chapter 309
Chapter 309:
“It is done,” Mikhail said, his accent thicker than usual. “All devices detonated.”
“I can see that,” Rose replied, irritation edging her voice. “What about the targets? Camille Kane? Victoria Kane?”
A pause. “Unknown. Many ambulances. Many injured.”
“That’s not good enough!” Rose shouted, her calm facade cracking. “I need to know if they’re dead!”
Another helicopter passed overhead, its roar drowning out Mikhail’s response. When the noise faded, he was saying, “…must leave the city now. Police will be looking.”
“I’m not leaving until I know they’re dead,” Rose cut him off. “Not after everything I’ve done to make this happen.”
“Foolish,” Mikhail said bluntly. “You stay, you get caught.”
Rose laughed again, the sound sharp and brittle in the night air. “They need to know it was me. They need to know why their perfect world burned down around them.”
“They will know. But you won’t be there to see if you’re in prison.” Mikhail’s voice hardened. “Payment was for the job, not a suicide mission.”
Rose barely heard him. Her attention had returned to the burning hotel, to the chaos spreading across the plaza below. Somewhere in that mess was the answer she needed.
“I’m going closer,” she decided suddenly. “I need to see.”
“No!” Mikhail’s voice rose with alarm. “Too dangerous. Too many police.”
Rose ended the call without responding. She had come too far to hide in the shadows now. She needed to see the destruction up close, to feel the heat of the flames on her face, to know with certainty that Camille had finally been erased from the world.
She took the service stairs down from the roof, her mind racing with possibilities. The black wig and glasses in her bag would provide some disguise. She could blend with the crowd of onlookers, perhaps even pose as a concerned witness. No one would be looking for Rose Lewis there—they’d be searching for her far from the scene.
The stairwell was dark, lit only by emergency lights that cast eerie shadows on the walls. As Rose descended, her laughter echoed around her, bouncing off the concrete, creating a chorus of madness that followed her down and down.
Lᴧtєѕt ϲhαptєrs 𝑖n g𝓪l𝑛ovєl𝑆.𝗰𝑂m
By the time she reached the bottom floor, the laughter had transformed into something else—a kind of wild delight that made her feel more alive than she had in years. Her entire body tingled with energy. Every sense seemed heightened—the smell of smoke from outside, the distant wail of sirens, the taste of success on her tongue.
She paused at the building’s exit, watching through the glass doors as people ran past. Some were covered in soot, their fancy clothes torn and dirtied. Survivors of her masterpiece. Rose studied their faces, searching for signs of Camille or Victoria among them.
Nothing.
.
.
.