If my life was a graveyard, I'd be the grave-keeper shoveling mud over the graves of the deceased, watching after them every day as though it would give me anything in return. Maybe it isn't about the return, maybe it's all about the willingness of the person doing the work others usually wouldn't.

Afterall, it does give me sinister delight thinking about watching over the graves of the people who cage us in this place. Perhaps that's my goal—to perish each one of them, in the most gruesome of ways.

Perhaps, Michael's goal is to win the game of survival. It explains why he tells the main heads my intention to kill them. It explains why right before the guards came to inform me that I was to visit the torture chamber, from his cell right across mine, Michael had ominously whispered, "If I get to live, I don't mind you dying."

- from the journal entries of Daisy.

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☘︎ Eᴠᴇ Kᴀᴠɪɴsᴋʏ ☘︎

The thing about Venom X is; Nikolai's been obsessed with her for years.

Three years ago, with the nonchalance of someone on a stroll at a park, Nikolai had randomly announced to Juliette and me that he was one of the Elites of the dark web-the top five illegal hackers in the world-after deriving a highly classified information on the Italian Mafia's latest weaponry investment. To say my best friend and I had stared at the then thirteen-year-old boy in absolute dumbfoundedness, would be the understatement of the century.

While Julliete is the bloodthirsty, fearless woman who had the entire Russia terrified and under her control, Nikolai's always been the brains aiding her from behind. It is what made them the most powerful Mafia, it is what made them ahead of the Italian Mafia who were similarly compatible.

Nikolai had the personality of a magnetic charmer; someone who could flash you a trickster's smile and lure you with his honeyed words into spewing the deepest of your secrets. But the certitude of the situation is; he's always been formidably competitive. Whether in academics, sports or anything where he could be the best.

And the only competition he's ever had is Venom X.

If the dark web was an empire, the five Elites were the kings and queens ruling over certain territories and Venom X, their empress. She was untraceable, dangerous and unpredictable. Nikolai hated that he wasn't the emperor, the best of the Elites.

So every breathing moment ever since Venom X was declared the best, he'd tried his hardest to outdo her. No hacker could ever find her and Nikolai had made it his mission to prove them wrong. He hadn't been successful until. . .

"We finally meet, Venom X."

I take in the now sixteen year old crouched at the window, staring at Victoria with the same smile he uses on people to get under their skin and have them praying at his feet, but Vicky just watches him the way a forensic inspector would a dead body. Clinical assessment, at best.

Nikolai's smile widens, almost like a cunning fox accepting a challenge only he could decipher. Mischief lingering in his Russian accent, he addresses me, "Hello Eve, my true love."

"You should be with appa and maa in Mexico. What are you doing here, Nikolai?" I ask with a sigh, mostly to divert his attention from Vicky. One thing I know about Victoria is; she doesn't like strangers looking at her for long, just the way Axel doesn't. And Nikolai is outright staring as if he hadn't seen a more interesting species in decades.

My words finally seem to make Nikolai transfer his sight, amber eyes with a hint of grey meeting mine. He gets down from the window sill, approaching without nary a rush, his tall height like a looming shadow of a black cat prowling the floor, "For three reasons, actually. First," He holds up his index finger, "Sonal thinks there is 'daal me kuch kaala hai' back in France. Hence, she sent me here in her place. Whilst I assist you with the butchery you are to commit, she and Uncle Park will look through what is fishy there. Apparently, the candidate who was to take Pierce Fangley's place-the twat you murdered-as president, has disappeared."

Which meant, there's something fishy happening.

"Second reason?" My hands twitch to clench into a fist. I don't even ask how he knows I'd killed Fangley. I had warned mom, telling Nikolai the littlest information would be like giving him entrance into a whirlpool of secrets. At this point, he probably knows as much as Victoria does. Though the only assurance I could have is Nikolai is a Mafia kid, death isn't a foreign concept to him and he isn't one to poke his nose where it doesn't concern him either.

"I know Juliette probably mentioned I was there with Sonal and Hyeon in the house as extra protection. But she assumes I don't know the fact she's also hiding me there because she thinks the Italian Mafia are after my attractive head. Do not blame them honestly, I would want me too." He shrugs, absolute narcism pouring off him, "However, my sister worries too much and I can't help being rebellious, ya know?" A twitch to his lips, he winks at me.

I roll my eyes, "Ofcourse you're here to get on her last nerves." The same way he pokes Juli by using Italian endearments, instead of Russian.

"It's just fun to mess with her." Nikolai glances at Axel's laid form with a tilt of his head, "He's kind of gorgeous, even while looking half dead. I forgive you for leaving me for him, although I do think I'm more gorgeous." He acts hurt, as though I've broken his heart. The delinquent.

I don't dare glance at Axel though, afraid if I do, I'm bound to feel more guilt. But Nikolai's wordings 'looking half dead' triggers something within me, that has my fists clenching, the anger from earlier returning in palpable waves.

"What's the third reason?" I try to ignore the black hole of darkness pulling me in, try to keep my attention on the matter at hand.

"I got Venom X's ever-fluctuating signals from Bali for like 5 seconds. But it was a regular occurrence, her signals jump to nearly ten thousand locations a day. I thought I'd just give it a half-baked chance since I was to come here anyways. I knew from Sonal you were reaching Bali today and I knew most of the guides always take the tourists to Ubud Art Market. So I'd been roaming there since morning. I must say, I was surprised that not only did I found you so quick, I found Venom X's audio hacking device's signals for the first time. Never have I felt more accomplished." He boasts.

Luck must've greeted him with abundance today. But there were more pressing matters I needed to know.

"Who was the shooter?" Vicky and I ask at the same time, our gazes clashing with Nikolai's in deathly precision. It's like we're both attune to the fact that this question matters the most above all else.

Nikolai observes the two of us, his hair falling over his eyes as he pushes them back with a comb of his ringed fingers. Lips stretching into a wicked grin, "Feel like breaking into a party?"

***

Whatever compelled Nikolai to believe the guards outside Bartholomew Lang's mansion would let us in as though we're their long-lost relatives, backfires real quick when the bulky men in black uniforms block our paths at the gates and extend their palms for our invites.

Hands tucked into the pockets of the fur overcoat sheathing my skin over the ivory mini-dress, the feel of the hammer and the metal gas balls warms both of my palms. I raise a brow at Nikolai with a saccharine smile, "Invites, Nikolai?"

Victoria watches us silently, absently running her fingers over the gold serpent choker around her neck, the one that matches perfectly with her white crop-top and long-skirt. My gaze meet hers and she tilts her head as if to ask whether we should opt for Plan B of climbing the boundary walls now that she'd successfully deactivated every camera around the area.

Before we can proceed with the backup plan however, Nikolai grins like a Cheshire cat high on ethanol, pulling three sleek black cards from the pocket of his silver shirt. He holds up the invitation cards between his index and middle finger, winking at us in mischief, "I've got you ladies covered."

I don't bother to ask how he'd gotten his hands on the invites, the methods of his proceedings often have no morals.

Once the security scans the invites and the scanner beeps green, my breath stills with adrenaline at what will follow after entering the party.

The song 'Confident' by Demi Lovato echoes from within the mansion walls. With Nikolai and Victoria on either of my sides, we cross the threshold of the gates and into the shooter's territory, donning on our masks in sync.

Pink and blue neon lights flash across the entire frontyard, people dancing and drinking and mingling among themselves. Some even dwell near the gigantic swimming pool but not diving, in fear of soaking their tailored silken clothes.

Victoria and Nikolai turn to me, anticipation in their eyes. I pass them a sadistic smile, "Ready?"

Victoria nods, a glint of darkness flickering over her features. Nikolai simply stuffs a hand in his pants pocket, clearly smirking behind his mask when a group of girls wave at him, beckoning him over and giggling among themselves.

"Once upon a time, someone said never trust a man with a beautiful face." Nikolai winks back at the girls, passing them a two-finger salute. Making a show of pulling the metal gas ball out of his pocket, he tosses it in the air twice before pressing on the button and throwing it in the direction of the girls. Despite not having a clue what it truly is, the girls dumbfounded by his charms, fight to catch the object. When it lands on the hands of one of the girls, she holds it like a holy grail.

But the moment the chemical starts leaking from the pores of the metal ball, her eyes widen, then rolls back completely into her skull. The gas ball and her petite body both fall onto the ground with consecutive thuds. The other girls around her, flay on their feet, fighting off the fast-approaching unconsciousness. Only to fail and end up fainting as well.

"They said the truth." Nikolai concludes, bowing with a flourish, vicious amusement written over his expression.

Before the rest of the crowd react with shrieks and shouts, Victoria and I quickly fish out our own gas balls and launch them around the entire frontyard with crazy agility. Somewhere along, the guards at the gates come over to check, only to faint from the gas lingering heavy in the air. In a matter of minutes, everyone except Nikolai, Victoria and me, lay scattered across the ground in a non-consented slumber. By the time the people wake up, we'd be out of here and they'd have foggy enough memories of fainting, that they wouldn't be able to give a clear statement to the police without sounding high.

"Well, that was fun." Nikolai stretches his arms over his head in boredom, "What now, bellisima?" He asks me in all playful seriousness.

"Bartholomew believes anyone can have anyone for a value. Whether through money, threat or manipulation. I don't want you or Victoria around when I'm handling him." I enuciate, before glancing at Vicky, "He's in the backyard and there are no more guards around, right?"

At her nod, I take a deep breath and renounce their tasks, "Victoria, wear the gloves and larger size shoes and go inside the mansion. See if there is any documents or files that would help us track down the three anonymous members of the secret society."

Turning to Nikolai, "You stay here in the frontyard and gas ball anyone who steps through the gates. Keep an eye on every unconcious person. Make sure no new arrival or present person here, makes it past the frontyard and into either the backyard or the mansion."

"Yes ma'am." He salutes, then pauses, "Wait, we don't have any gas balls left."

But Victoria extracts a gun out of her side purse. When my eyes widen at where she'd gotten it, she simply blinks and explains, "It is a gun that shoots midazolam darts. Sleep injections. Not bullets. I modified them with Intraamygdala to cause amnesia. They can help put anyone down effortlessly, if the shooter's aim is accurate." Something nicks at my conscience that it doesn't mean she might not have an actual gun. I'd seen the girl trade in the black market, of all places.

"I have great aim, thank you very much." Although he speaks to me, his words are directed towards Victoria.

Nodding, Victoria approaches Nikolai to pass him the gun. But he grabs her wrist once she's close enough, "Free."

A slow frown creases between Vicky's brows, her eyes like lazer focus on Nikolai's hand holding her wrist hostage, as though she is methodically considering a painful method to detach the grip, "What?"

Nikolai grins like a maniac with pure satisfaction and I realize with a start that this is the first time she's actually directly interacted with him, "You can have me for free." He states smoothly, voice dipped in sultry russian. This complete flirt of a hooligan.

Victoria looks at him like she can't decipher what specie of creature he is. Nikolai laughs, letting her go and walking backwards towards the gates, bringing his ringed, rolex-clad hand in front of his eyes, "Lets get on with the mission at hand, shall we? We have approximately two and half hour left before the cameras start recording actual footages again instead of looped ones."

Right. The mission.

Willing myself to focus, I nod at Victoria who proceeds on, her silhouette disappearing inside the mansion without another minute wasted. Nikolai watches after her in a mixture of challenge and contempt, before shaking his head and settling his gaze on the gates instead.

Everything is in order.

Finally, I let myself feel the entire brunt of dark emotions I'd kept caged—ever since Bartholomew shot Axel—until now, as I make my way to the backyard.

***

The death of twigs and branches under the points of my heels make a crunching noise. The chilly wind whisks past my hair, goosebumps decorating my arms in aftermath. But underneath my veins, all I feel is the heat of unbashed anger and sinister adrenaline.

My eyes clinically scan the backyard, until it settles on the gazebo at the farther end. Within it sits Barthlomew Lang on a marble counter, his back to me and his sight possibly set on the dark forest that stretches beyond his estate, leading to the mountain's cliff.

I approach the infrastructure with unhurried steps, speaking only when I'm within the man's hearing range, "I've heard you have connections with the Hermes headquarters. Get me the limited edition Berkin and I'll give you one less stab wound." I propose the offer, watching the sharp bladed edges of my hammer with fascination. Wherever Nikolai had gotten it from, it was quite the modified beauty.

Barthlomew's form stiffens for a fleeting second at the sound of my voice, but then he relaxes, a humourless chuckle escaping his lips, "I thought you were a man, but you indeed are a woman. So those daisies weren't a false implantation to divert us from the real person like he acted to predict, huh?"

I suppose that entails he isn't accepting my Berkin offer. Sad, I was nearly considering keeping my word.

Bartholomew goes on, preoccupied by his thoughts, still watching the darkened forest, "When I got the call from him today morning claiming he knows the killer, that it is Arthur Hernandez's grandson. I knew he was going to kill the grandson and take the corpse to the higher ups to solidify his position in the secret society. But I couldn't let that happen-he is to forever remain beneath me, not equal to my position. So I searched for the grandson's location and shot him. Though I'm quite the terrible shot and failed, I was thrilled to act first. I thought I'd throw a party in celebration, then finish the grandson off for good later on. But just now, I received a call from him and he said two words, 'Thank You'. I knew right then, something was wrong."

Stepping up on the gazebo, right behind Bartholomew like a grim reaper's shadow, a frown takes over my features. Finish him off for good? Contract marriage it may be, but the audacity of him to say that about my husband. It made me want to do gruesome things.

"That bastard of a son, his mother knew the devil's spawn he was when he tried to kill her. She was right to throw him away. I should've known better." Bartholomew exudes a depreciating laugh, the echoes resonating in the wind, "But the question is why would he make us all believe you were a man when he clearly knew you weren't?"

Not paying the least attention to his self reflection, my eyes zero in on his left palm splayed flat over the marble block he's seated on, remembering how Nikolai had mentioned Bartholomew shot Axel with his left hand.

The little pandora box of memories in my head, opens. The memories of Axel's body limp against mine blend with Kai's-the warmth of their blood coating my hands, the loss of the shine in their eyes disappearing as they fluttered shut in pain and confusion.

I remember the feel of the same confusion ten times over when I was in the torture chamber-the heat searing me, the flames engulfing me from all sides but my skin remaining intact. I remember the sound of the screams I heard from all angles but how the lack of people around me messed with my sanity, as though I was conjuring it all up. I remember when I saw the simulation cell showing me slitting Kai's throat, it wasn't true but it was in my head. I remember yelling and clawing at my own skin to stop whatever the live projections were. But had he listened?

They are all to be blamed for how I am. For I must've always been unhinged, but they pushed me over the edge. And Bartholomew played a huge part in it. Everything that will happen to him is the result of his own foul play.

Possessed by the unstable beast dwelling in my soul, my arm raises before I can stop myself. One moment the hammer hangs mid-air, the next I'm slamming it down on Bartholomew's hand.

Blood sprays on my face. Smirking in sadistic satisfaction at the crunch of finger bones breaking accompanied by his agonized scream, I lean next to his ear, "If manipulation is an art, Michael is a renowned artist in it. He's the last person you should ever believe."

Even with the screaming, his eyes widen in stunned shock at the little revelation I let slip.

My smirk widens, "Oh right, you thought I'm not aware Michael is your son."

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Not gonna make any excuses on the super tardy update, I didn't know I'd end up taking a two-month break from the good ol' friend called inspiration💀

But I'm glad after numerous tries-I rewrote this chapter like 10 times and have nearly 15k worth of words of trash written in the drafts-finally it's on track. Literally had to grab a pen and paper and write down the chapter when nothing was working, and weirdly this method worked🏃‍♀️

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I plan to update the next chapter on Monday, but I'll try to do sooner in compensation for all the lost updates the last months!✨️

▪︎ What do you think is
wrong back in France?

▪︎ Your thoughts on Nikolai?

▪︎ Your thoughts on Michael?

▪︎ Any theories?👀