Chapter 8

Fury burned through me, my eyes scanning the screen as messages flooded the chat. These were my people, the ones who understood me, the ones who craved what I provided. And now, they were turning on me, accusing me of being soft, of letting some woman control me.

Their words were like acid in my soul. How dare they question my methods? How dare they doubt my commitment or my control? They didn’t know me, not truly. They didn’t understand the depths of my pain, the sickness that consumed me.

I had dedicated my life to purging the world of the filth that had poisoned my childhood. I had willingly become the monster I swore to destroy, but in doing so, I had found a twisted sense of peace.

But now, this woman had invaded my world, disrupting my meticulously constructed reality. She was a thorn in my side.

Yet, there was something about her, something that drew me to her like a moth to a flame. Her innocence, her naivety, it was both infuriating and intoxicating. She was like a breath of fresh air in my suffocating world.

I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward her, but I couldn’t let it consume me. I had a mission to fulfill, a darkness to embrace. And I wouldn’t let some woman, no matter how alluring, get in my way.

“She’s fucking crazy,” I typed, my fingers flying across the keyboard. “But she’s not the one who doxxed me.”

The messages slowed, replaced by a tense silence. Then, a new message popped up.

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

I scoffed, knowing I had to prove myself. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through my gallery until I found the picture I had taken earlier. Cora, bound and gagged on her own bed, her eyes wide with fear and clouded by the drugs I forced her to inhale. I sent it to the chat, the silence growing even heavier.

Finally, a message appeared.

“Okay, Lord. We believe you. But who is she? And why is she doing this?”

I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t understand any of this. All I knew was that my life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. And I didn’t like it one bit. What was I supposed to do with a woman who knew my deepest, darkest secrets? A woman who had somehow managed to infiltrate my life, my mind, my very soul.

The messages exploded on the screen again at my silence, a chaotic mess of speculation and accusations. They were hungry for answers, desperate to understand what was happening.

“Who the hell is behind this?” one demanded.

“Was it one of the Salty Sirens?” another speculated. The Salty Sirens, a group of rival killers, had been a thorn in my side for months, mirroring my methods but lacking the finesse and artistry I brought to my work.

“Or maybe it’s a new player,” someone else chimed in.

The possibilities were endless, and the uncertainty was eating away at me. I needed to find out who was behind this, and fast. But how? I had no leads, no clues. I was stuck.

I scrolled through the messages, my eyes narrowing. Someone had gone to great lengths to frame Cora, and I was determined to find out who it was and why. I never even knew Cora existed before she published her book and shared every dirty little secret I had and attached my name to it like a glowing neon sign. She wasn’t even connected to any of the people I killed. So why use her? Whoever used her would have known I would go after her. So was she supposed to be the scapegoat, the distraction for something more nefarious, or did someone want her dead and broadcasted online?

One message caught my attention.

“I hacked her phone and social media accounts,” the message read. “There’s nothing there. No suspicious emails, no weird DMs, not even any sketchy browser history. It’s like she’s never interacted with anyone outside of her inner circle.”

My mind raced. If Cora wasn’t behind it, and there was no evidence of anyone else contacting her, then who the hell was responsible?

I typed out my next message, my eyes narrowed in concentration. “Keep digging,” I commanded, my tone leaving no room for argument. “We need to find out who’s pulling the strings.”

The chat went silent again, everyone waiting for the next move. I leaned back in my chair, running my fingers through my hair. This was all so frustrating. I just wanted to get back to what I did best, to punish those who deserved it. But this woman, Cora, she was a complication I hadn’t anticipated. She was a puzzle I was determined to solve.

Something about her didn’t sit right. The lack of evidence, the clean slate, it was all too suspicious. I had a feeling she was hiding something, something big. And I was going to find out what it was, even if it was the last thing I did.