Chapter 4

Scarlett's POV

I walked out of the restroom, my fingers still dripping with cold water.

The moment I reached the corner of the hallway, I realized something was very wrong.

The lively ballroom had gone terrifyingly quiet. All the guests had stopped breathing, staring with bizarre expressions at the center of the hall.

Julian stood there. His suit was still stained with Chloe's blood.

And the bodyguard behind him was holding a transparent glass urn.

It was filled with grayish-white ash.

My pupils contracted instantly. The blood in my veins froze entirely.

Julian met my terrified gaze, a cruel, monstrous smile stretching across his face.

He reached out, slowly uncapping the urn. Then, he flipped it completely upside down, dumping the entire contents onto the deep red carpet.

"The ashes of a dead dog... and you actually kept it like a treasure for five years."

The grayish-white dust billowed in the air. The draft blew it right onto my shoes.

"Then again, it makes sense. After all, it was the only thing your dying father left you. When he gave it to you, you held this dog and cried for three whole days. I thought it was hilarious back then. It's just a dog left by a dead man. Was it really worth all that?"

Julian's words were like a sledgehammer, smashing the last piece of my sanity to dust.

My father's...

Last memory.

Five years ago, Julian killed my Lucky.

Five years later, in front of everyone, he crushed the last connection I had to my father.

A towering wave of hatred swallowed me whole.

I didn't cry. I didn't scream.

I just walked forward, step by step, treading over my dog's ashes, until I reached the buffet table.

I gripped a sharp steak knife. My palm was freezing.

"Julian."

I called his name softly, my voice sounding like a vengeful spirit demanding a soul.

Before Julian could even react, I lunged forward. Using every single ounce of strength in my body, I drove the sharp knife deep into his abdomen!

Squelch!

Blood sprayed out instantly, staining Julian's grey suit and mixing with the white ashes on the carpet.

Julian let out a painful groan, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief as he stared at the hilt of the knife sticking out of his stomach.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed heavily to the floor.

"This is for my father and Lucky."

I looked down at him, my eyes as cold as if I were looking at a corpse.

The entire venue exploded into chaos.

Screams echoed everywhere. Wealthy women grabbed their dresses and fled in a panic.

The bodyguards, pale with shock, rushed forward to pin me down.

"Stop right there."

A voice suddenly rang out. The bodyguards who were closing in stopped dead in their tracks.

I looked up. At the top of the grand staircase, Dominic Pierce was slowly, calmly walking down.

His handsome, sharp face carried no expression, but the sheer aura of authority he radiated made it so that not a single bodyguard dared to touch me.