Chapter 311
Chapter 311:
“Thank you,” Rose whispered, already backing away.
Memorial Hospital. City General. New destinations. New opportunities to finish what she’d started.
As Rose moved away from the police barricade, her gaze returned to the burning hotel. The flames had grown higher, consuming what remained of the ballroom where her sister had stood so proudly. Where Victoria Kane had watched her adopted daughter shine. Where the Phoenix Foundation had been celebrated.
All of it now ash and rubble.
Rose began to laugh again, softly at first, then louder. A few people nearby glanced at her strangely, but in the chaos of the night, a woman laughing seemed no stranger than people crying, shouting, or staring in shocked silence.
Her laughter was wild, unrestrained. The sound of something breaking free after being caged too long. The sound of madness, perhaps, but also of purest joy. Because even if Camille had survived, Rose had still hurt her. Had still destroyed the foundation she’d built. Had still proved that nowhere was safe, no triumph secure.
And she wasn’t finished yet.
Rose turned away from the burning building, her mind already racing toward new plans, new attacks. The hospitals would be chaotic tonight. Security would be focused on caring for victims, not watching for threats. If Camille was there, she would be vulnerable. If Victoria was there…
Rose’s laughter cut off abruptly, replaced by a cold smile. Perhaps the night’s work wasn’t complete after all.
She disappeared into the crowd, just another face in the sea of onlookers. Just another shadow moving through the smoke-filled night. But unlike the shocked bystanders around her, Rose moved with purpose. With certainty.
The destruction behind her was just the beginning. The ruins of the Grand Plaza Hotel were merely the first act in her revenge.
And as sirens wailed, people cried, and the building continued to burn, Rose Lewis laughed once more. The sound was lost in the chaos she had created, but the feeling of it vibrated through her entire body— a savage pleasure that nothing and no one could take away. Not even Camille.
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Special Agent Diana Chen’s eyes hurt. They were red and dry from staring at screens all night. Cold coffee cups crowded her desk. She hadn’t slept. She couldn’t sleep. Not until she found what she needed in the videos from the bombed hotel.
“Play it again,” she told the tech guy sitting next to her. Her voice was hoarse from too much coffee and not enough rest. “Slow it down when it hits.”
The screen flickered as the video rewound. It showed a hallway near the hotel’s electrical room. This camera had survived when most others were destroyed in the blast. The time at the bottom showed 9:41 PM. Chen leaned in close, her whole body tense with hope.
A woman walked into view. She wore a hotel worker’s uniform with a cap pulled down to hide her face. She moved like she knew exactly what she was doing. She checked her watch, then looked around to make sure no one saw her. At the electrical panel, she stopped. She took something from her pocket and stuck it to the wall.
.
.
.