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I barely looked at the photographs before nausea rolled through .

My instincts reacted first. My stomach twisted. My fingers went cold. I flung the stack across the desk.

Lewis didn’t.

He picked them up calmly, one by one, studying every detail. His face didn’t change, but I felt the shift in him. The air around him thickened. Quiet. Controlled. Dangerous.

The last photo wasn’t Lincy.

It was Silas’s grave.

The image had been altered. Edited. Staged.

At the foot of the headstone lay a severed head, blood running from the eyes, nose, and mouth. A red mole marked the forehead.

My mole.

My head.

Lewis’s fingers tightened around the photograph. His knuckles turned pale. The veins on the back of his hand stood out sharply, like he was restraining sothing inside himself.

"She’s sending a ssage," I said slowly. "She wants to offer my head to Silas."

The words sounded calm.

But my pulse was not.

Kemp adjusted his glasses, trying to stay professional. "Ms. Ashbourne, from now on, all deliveries will be screened before they reach you. This will not happen again."

Lewis’s voice was cold and precise. "The secretarial team. Are they all from Grant’s pack? Any outsiders?"

"No outsiders, Mr. Hale. Every one of them has followed Mr. Ashbourne for over ten years. They are loyal."

"Keep it that way," Lewis said sharply. "No one unfamiliar gets near her."

His tone wasn’t loud.

But it carried authority. The kind that made people lower their heads without realizing it.

Grant’s company was new in Snowville, but his team was old blood. Trusted. Tested. There was no room for betrayal.

After finishing my work, I went to the funeral ho.

Lincy’s body was already being cremated.

It had only been two months since I last saw Monica, but she looked like soone who had lived ten years in that ti. The carefully maintained beauty was gone. Her face, once lifted and polished, now showed scars and discoloration. Without money, without status, she had withered.

"Oh, my poor daughter!" she wailed when she saw .

Beside her stood Zack.

He had lost weight. His stomach was gone, but his face looked sharper, aner. There was no grief in his eyes. Only bitterness.

It wasn’t surprising.

Lincy had called another man father for twenty years. Even after the truth ca out, she never once acknowledged Zack. She insulted him every ti she saw him.

There was no bond there. No real blood loyalty.

Monica suddenly turned on Zack. "Our daughter is being cremated! How can you stand there without crying? She’s your flesh and blood!"

"Daughter?" Zack sneered. "She never treated like one. You raised her into a spoiled brat. She got what she deserved."

Deserved.

He said it so easily.

About a dead girl.

That was when I understood sothing clearly.

Lincy did not grow up twisted by accident.

Monica lunged at him, scratching his face. His neck already had marks from older fights. Their ho must have been a battlefield long before today.

When they had money, they called it love.

Without money, love rotted.

Zack slapped her hard. The sound echoed inside the quiet crematorium.

Monica staggered. Blood touched the corner of her mouth.

Then she saw Grant.

He stood there, silent, his expression unreadable.

She had tried to poison him once. For Zack.

Even if Grant never loved her, he would have given her a comfortable life if she had remained quiet. But she wanted more. She wanted power. She wanted control. She wanted to win.

Greed ruined her.

When the staff brought out the urn, they asked, "Who is next of kin?"

Before Monica could speak, Grant stepped forward.

"I’ll take it."

The room went still.

Monica sobbed again. "After everything we did, you still care about her. She was your daughter for twenty years. You’re a better father than Zack ever was."

Grant’s eyes were cold.

"You’re mistaken," he said evenly. "I don’t care for her. I hate her. I’m only keeping my promise to bury her."

Monica’s tears stopped instantly.

Lincy had already lost her na in life. Even in death, she carried disgrace. Without Grant paying for the burial, she would not even have a place to rest.

We buried her quickly.

A magnolia tree was planted beside the grave. The tombstone read:

Lincy Harrison.

Not Ashbourne.

Even in death, Grant did not forgive her.

He sat quietly for a mont.

"Consider this the end of your debt to Riley," he said to the stone. "If there is another life, apologize to her."

He placed chrysanthemums down and stood up.

It was over.

I looked at the engraved photo. She wore a luxurious gown, chin raised high, eyes full of arrogance. Once treated like a princess of the pack.

Now reduced to soil.

Silas’s grave wasn’t far away.

I walked there.

Fresh chrysanthemums rested at his headstone.

And a single earring.

I recognized it imdiately.

Lincy had worn it the night before she died.

Camilla had been here.

A shadow moved near the trees.

"Catch him," I ordered.

My bodyguards dragged a trembling man forward. He looked terrified.

"I was just told to leave the flowers! I didn’t steal anything!"

"Who sent you?" I asked.

"I don’t know her na. A woman in sunglasses. She paid to leave the offerings."

He was just hired hands.

Camilla didn’t show herself.

She used others.

She wanted Silas to know.

She wanted to know.

She had stepped fully into darkness now. Not running. Not hiding. Choosing to fight.

Lincy was only her first move.

After handling everything, Grant left for the airport. He had no reason to stay in Snowville anymore. He had considered pressing charges against Monica, but after seeing her broken state, he decided her life with Zack would be punishnt enough.

As we drove away, they were still arguing beside the graves.

Back ho, Nelson ca to see us.

"I heard you received threatening photos," he said.

Lewis handed them over.

"Look at this," Lewis said calmly.

In one corner of the image, part of a man’s arm was visible. A black eagle head tattoo marked his skin.

One of the n involved in Lincy’s death.

"We’ll investigate," Nelson said. "But Mrs. Hale, be careful. Camilla is linked to multiple murders connected to the Morrigans. She’s ruthless."

"I know," I replied. "I’ve reduced my public appearances for now."

"That’s wise. We’ve already lost too many. I don’t want you next."

I held his gaze. "Did Lincy’s body give you anything?"

Nelson lowered his voice.

"The killer was careful. No DNA inside her body. But she fought back. She scraped skin from the attacker. We found traces under her fingernails."

A small spark lit inside .

Proof.

Even monster

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