Vittorio was not surprised when he heard someone slip into his chamber that night. It had to be Rebekah. The stupid whore had to really believe she could talk him out of murdering her. But that would never be the case, Vittorio thought, smiling to himself.

 He grabbed his knife and turned around. But it was not Rebekah standing there.

 "Lucrezia!" Vittorio cried when he saw his sister. "My God, you gave me a fright. What are you doing here?" 

 "I wanted to see you," she said very calmly. "I found Francesca's journal, Vittorio."

 "So, you read it," he said with a sigh. "I did not wish to ruin it all for you, but it is true. Francesca and I hated each other. I still do not understand why she poisoned herself, but-"

 "She did not poison herself," Lucrezia snapped. "You did."

 "I did-sister, why would you think such a thing?"

 "You did not want her to ruin your name, and you hated her, so you poisoned her to make it seem that she poisoned herself. I know it is true, brother. Why would Francesca write such lies, if they are lies?"

 "She hated me!" Vittorio cried.

 "And so do I."

 Knowing that she had him off-guard, Lucrezia plunged her knife straight into his chest, causing him to collapse to the ground.

 "I hate you," she said, standing over his dying body. "Francesca was did have a male lover. I was her lover. She loved me. You were always looking in all the wrong places, Vittorio. And now that you are gone," she smiled wickedly, "I can marry my Alfonso and have a happy life, the way Francesca would want me to. All because you are dead."

 Lucrezia continued to smile as Vittorio took his final breath. When he was dead, her smile faded, and she took a step back. Had she done the right thing? Would she ever regret this?

 No. She couldn't regret this. It was what had to be done, the everyone's sakes. The tyrant was dead, and there was no way to reverse that.

 Lucrezia looked down at her dominating brother one last time before leaving his chamber, fully prepared to start anew.