In the garden, beneath the dim night sky, I knelt down and began digging with my bare hands.
The soil was cold and damp. It clung to my fingers, filled my nails, scraped my skin raw. I did not stop. I could not stop. My tears fell into the dirt as I carved out a small grave behind the garden wall, where the security lights didn't reach and the soldiers on night rotation never patrolled.
"I'm sorry, Miso," I sobbed quietly.
He had been my only comfort in this place. The only one who loved me without conditions. The only one who stayed by my side.
And now he was gone.
Just like that.
Something inside me broke completely.
Later that night, I walked through the east corridor of the Montecarlo estate, my body heavy and numb. The hallway was lined with portraits of dead men in dark suits, their painted eyes following anyone who passed.
Then I heard them.
Soft whispers.
Low giggles.
I turned slowly.
They stood there, all six of them, each holding a candle. The flickering flames cast strange shadows across their faces, making their smiles look twisted and unnatural.
"You told on us," Alessia said sweetly, her voice filled with hidden venom.