I even called Hendrix on video again, training the camera on Cassidy's twisted, terrified face.
"Your dog has been biting people outside," I intoned coldly. "If you won't control her, I'll do it for you."
Ten minutes later, Hendrix arrived with fifty men and encircled me. He stepped forward, drew a pistol from his waist, leveled it at my forehead and squeezed the trigger as if testing whether I would flinch. His voice was a cold blade.
"Vienna, you've gone too far."
"Who let you touch Cassidy? You want to die?" he snarled.
On the ground, Cassidy writhed in agony and screamed, "Hendrix, kill this madwoman! Avenge me!"
By the time her cry finished, the tip of my blade was already pressed to her belly.
"Long time no see, Hendrix." I smirked. "If you want revenge, come and take it. But you know what I'll do. If you fire that gun, I promise this bitch will die faster than I will."
I pressed harder with the blade, cutting Cassidy's skin. Blood stained her white dress. Her scream split the air.
"You deserve to die, Vienna! There's not one decent thing left in the Wilson family—your sister dying is what you deserve!"
"Hendrix, what are you waiting for? Do it! Kill her! If you don't, she'll kill me and my child!"
Hendrix's men lunged forward while he studied me for a long moment, teeth clenched. Finally, Hendrix lowered his gun slowly, then shouted, "All of you, get back! I didn't tell you to come here!"
Satisfied, I nodded and wiped the blood from my blade across Cassidy's face until it was clean. "You're smarter than you were five years ago."
Furious, Cassidy opened her mouth to curse; I smashed my fist into her temple. She went limp and fell unconscious.
Hendrix's eyes reddened with anger. "Don't touch her," he warned. "If you want to come at someone, come at me."
"Leila's death was an accident—Cassy had nothing to do with it!" he added, voice rasping.
"I know what you suspect, but I swear to you, I didn't betray Leila before she died. Cassidy and I only got together after... after she was gone."
I kicked the woman on the ground; she responded like rotten meat.
"Hendrix, I will find the truth." I spat the words like a promise. "I'm not like Leila—you know that. I could take the blame and go to prison for her. I could also kill for her. Anyone who hurts her, I won't spare. That includes you."
Hearing her name again, Hendrix shut his eyes as if exhausted. "Vienna, you know I wouldn't raise a hand against you. Leila is gone. I don't want to be your enemy. Let Cassidy go. Let yourself go."
He left with Cassidy. I returned to the tiny home I'd lived in before prison—every trace of my sister had long since been erased. But the scenes of my life five years ago were still seared into my memory.
After our parents were killed by our enemies, Hendrix—the foster brother who became our only support—taught me to kill and to survive. With a cleaver and a gun, he and I took revenge for our parents in a wave of blood. We shared the same vow: protect Leila at any cost.
Then one accident exposed Leila to our enemies; she was taken and tortured for three days and nights. Hendrix alone carried a hundred deaths on his shoulders to bring her back. He was drenched in blood but only cared for Leila's wounds. It was then I realized the man I loved loved my sister.
I wanted my sister to be happy and voluntarily take the blame and go to jail. I never expected news of her death to reach me before her wedding ever happened. The men I sent to investigate said Leila changed after I was imprisoned.
