[author's note: I have a gut feeling that I am going to get plenty of hate in this chapter... and I'm sorry!! But I'm sure that you all probably knew deep down that Irina was going to do something really irrational after last chapter's revelations. If those shocked you, imagine what a number it did to Irina. And this is how Irina deals with her shock and pain.

PLEASE NOTE that I highly discourage every one of my readers from doing impulsive acts in the heat of the moment! Please remain calm and composed as much as you can if you ever find yourself betrayed. (I hope you don't.) Please never commit any crime in the name of your personal revenge. NEVER DO WHAT IRINA DID.]

REVENGE IS A dish best served cold.

They're wrong.

I should know.

Revenge, my friends, is a dish best served flaming hot.

Best if it is served in a form of a raging inferno.

___

Surprisingly- and rather disturbingly- nobody at the gas station questions my purchases and even remains indifferent to it. It's as if a purchase of a gas tank of 10 litres of gasoline and a many lighters are a common purchase.

"Aren't you gonna ask me what I'm buying them for?" I actually question the cashier. The teenage girl, obviously a part-time employee probably working here just to make ends meet or spend her salary on useless accessories, appears disgruntled and sighs. Other than her sighing, I receive no response.

Perhaps in an effort to sate my itch for conversation, I glance at her nametag which reads 'Emma', and continue to disturb her. "Was your mum a Jane Austen fan or a die-hard Potterhead? What, did she decide to go with Emma Watson's 'Emma' 'cos Hermione's too uncommon?"

Emma scowls at me. I can see her swearing colourfully at me internally. "She named me Emma after my granny. Not that it's any of your business, woman. Bugger off, will you?"

"'Bugger off'? Are you British?"

"Will you just sod off with your gasoline and lighters? You must be a real muppet if you think I'm going to entertain you any longer! SOD OFF!"

I do as Emma from the United Kingdom says.

I'm impressed with myself. This is someone else I've managed to get under their skin that's not any of my former close friends or ex-boyfriend. Surely I've broken a Guinness Record, right?

But whatever. I don't really give a crap about anything these days.

I don't even know why I bothered to get Emma to inquire or be worried about my odd choice of purchases.

Am I trying to be caught or what?

Anyone in the right frame of mind would have tried their utmost best to buy it discreetly and not leave a lasting impression, unlike what I did.

That girl is definitely going to remember the woman clad in a navy shirt and gray leggings angering her. Emma will remember what I bought too, no doubt. I mean, honestly, will you forget anyone who bought 20 litres worth of gasoline and enough lighters to last a smoker a lifetime?

Unless you're a muppet, as Emma so aptly puts it, you won't.

Am I trying to gain some sympathy from someone, or am I doing this just to get someone to care?

But why? Isn't revenge what I want?

Yes, Irina Pan, that's what you want. Listen to your heart. Put the plan in your brain's head to action. Go.

That's right. Thanks for the reminder there, brain. Glad to have you onboard and keep me in check.

Pfft. Of course. I am a part of you after all.

___

It doesn't take long for the ebony night to blanket Songiria. Oddly enough, it feels like the Sun tucked into bed a tad too early today.  It does make me curious and think strange, philosophical thoughts. Are the heavens siding with me? Do they feel that my revenge and my plan is justified enough to warrant more time to carry it out? Did the Sun go to sleep early today to buy me time?

If that's the reason why, then I am grateful. I mean, the places where I need to douse gasoline are a lot. We've got the storeroom, Libby's office, the main area, the restrooms... and what about my escape?

As I mused about this, I took another sip of red wine. Why not burn the darned place down while in a drunken state? I mean, we've all got to throw caution to the wind and YOLO, you know what I mean?

You may think me to be a vicious miscreant for betraying Libby's glaikit and unreserved trust in me, but think of what she has done to me. Losing this good-for-nothing, useless store is nothing compared to Libby's betrayal to me.

This is her punishment for her wrongdoings to me.

She deserves it.

Now, as for my escape... I ought to burn the main area last. And the stairs leading to the entrance of that beautifully-designed store of architecture too. Let Libby's Bath become a literal scorched Earth.

Let it go up in flames.

___

The wine must have numbed me for I do not even feel a twinge of guilt after dousing gasoline on the storeroom. Yes, the memories of what I did there, both professionally and while I was dating Joaq, lingered on and surfaced in my mind, and yet I was nonchalant towards it. 

It was probably because of the fury that I felt while recalling them that I poured an unnecessary litre of gasoline in that small area of space. It was undoubtedly a waste of my fifty bucks but at least I know that that place will be mere ashes after this whole drama is over.

 I didn't use the lighter yet as my plan was to swiftly drop three lit lighters in each room but only after I finished pouring my accomplice out in every room- including the main area to make things simpler for me. (It was also the reason why I was wearing sturdy boots.) 

After the three lit lighters were dropped in say, the restrooms, the fire will roar to life and that's when I have to hurry and drop four lit lighters in the storeroom and Libby's office for example before doing the same for the others.

Saying it all out in a theoretical format may seem almost boring but when putting the plan in motion, adrenaline pumps in and fires you up. I've never felt more alive than in this moment, where I squeal in glee as I recklessly and carefreely douse my former friend's artistic office in gasoline. Her fresh pen ink on a newly-written document smudging almost instantaneously fills me up with cruel satisfaction.

Libby was a damn fool for leaving me my employee's key card even when I made it clear that I'll make her pay. Why did she even bother, honestly.

"I told you I'll make you pay, you bitch. I told you, I warned you. Even a deaf man could hear the resolve in my voice when I assured you that there was not even a drop of goodwill left in me towards you." I look at Libby's gleaming nameplate and see my crazed reflection in it. There's a demented look in my eyes, something that I've never seen before, and they are burning with pure evil and hurt.

"It's like you were begging for it. Ruin my life's work, Irina. Blow it up, smash it into smithereens, beat it up like a pulp, whatever. I don't care. Well, great news for you, my friend. You can rename your life's work to Libby's Nothingness the next morning."

All thoughts of my detailed plan are forgotten in the heat of the moment. The sorrow that is bubbling in me makes my chest hurt and my heart clenches in pain, as if pleading with me to set this office- where it all really started- alight.

And that's what I do. I throw in five lit lighters and her own stupid candles for good measure. And I watch as the fire devours every piece of crucial document and file, our framed pictures of us hanging out being erased by the flames unforgivingly.

The fire alarm does not ring as I've disabled. In fact, that was one of the first things I did as soon as I got in. That and the destruction of the CCTVs that Libby had installed for fear of robbers.

Little did she know that it was not robbers that she had to fear. It was me.

I let myself be the audience for a moment longer before continuing on with my mission.

Despite the brief detour, my plan isn't really affected much except that I began to feel dizzy after inhaling in too much smoke. But my determination to ruin her and ensure that Libby's Bath was never to be rebuilt was stronger than whatever I was feeling which resulted in my plan becoming an overall success.

My applause and standing ovation was from the crackling and roars of the flames; of the sounds of the glass breaking due to the intense heat; the sight and sounds of her ceramic bowls- her latest inventions- cracking into various pieces; the satisfying smell of fabrics of her clothing designs being annihilated into nothingness.

The stairs that once lead to the entrancing entrance of the store are not spared either. An uncontrollable grin spread across my face as I witnessed the fires licked the bottom of the stairs and the wooden railings, as I watched the vulnerable parts of it become at the nascent fire's mercy while it leaped excitedly.

Meanwhile, in the store, it was totally engulfed in bright flames, leaping and jumping around as if it was free-drinks hour at a popular bar. Plumes of fire suddenly formed and exploded, darkening and sweeping the store in a fiery tornado of darkness.

Even I had overestimated the power of pouring 20 litres of gasoline. There was an explosion so great that even I fell victim to my own monstrous plot.

The earth rocked for a moment, the way an earthquake of considerable impact would, and I lost my footing and was forcibly thrown against a brick wall. The lasting I saw was the signage of Libby's Bath being ripped apart as if it was nothing and falling into a newly formed pit of fire. And the last thing I heard was the sweet twinkling of the bells that hung tightly on top of the entrance door.

I am honestly very worried about how you all are going to react after this chapter. Will my Alexander Street end up becoming the most hated book on Wattpad?

God, I really hope not... 

I guess we all know that Alexander Street is coming to an end... and I am sorry if you are upset that Irina and Joaquim did not end up together, that Irina did not choose to have a better life with her mother, that Irina burned Libby's Bath at the end of the book. 

I'm sorry if you all felt that I lead you all on and made you all believe that this book is going to be a happy ending. It is not.

This was all planned from the beginning. There was never going to be a #Irim happy ending. I am sincerely sorry if you are upset by these but I do hope that you will continue reading. There's probably 2 or 3 chapters left at most.