Dance of Death

"By using your 'Hospitals' as a cover, you do not arouse suspicion when acquiring large quantities of opiates under the pretence of medicinal purposes." William walked unhurriedly towards Dadori as he continued to explain.

"Then you use the opiates by turning the cellars of your brothels into opium dens. Your scheme involves enticing the sons of aristocrats to indulge in illicit pleasures, then demanding their parents purchase your silence if they do not want those deeds to be made public."

"Hmm… you go about setting fires, then offer your services as the fire brigade. You are quite the scoundrel." Albert smiled wryly, smirking at Dadori.

His smirk provoked Dadori, who lost his temper at the two brothers and started shouting.

"Ha! So you know that much, huh?" Dadori pointed at William. "So, do you mean to turn me over to the police?"

"Of course not. That is not what we're going to do." William's eyes glowed with anger.

"Your claim to have influence with the police was not entirely without merit." Albert's expression became more serious.

"So what are you going to do?" Dadori asked, amused, feeling he had the upper hand in this situation.

"You are going to taste the guilt that comes from driving Miss Macaulay to her death and dance in a frenzy before taking your own life." William took two steps back and smiled at Dadori.

"Huh? Me, commit suicide? Are you nuts in the head, Moriar--?" Just before Dadori could finish his words, he felt a bullet graze his head.

He looked around frantically for the sniper, but before he could spot anyone, another bullet grazed his leg. A series of bullets rained down on him, all seemingly aimed at him. As they continued to come, Dadori kept evading them in strange positions, looking as if he were dancing a waltz.

"What is happening?" Dadori continued to dance frantically, guided by the raining bullets.

"Did you think I would let you dance alone? Tonight, Death itself will accompany your dance." William smirked as he raised his hand as a signal.

In the east corner of the bridge, on the second-floor balcony of Criterion Bar, a hidden Sebastian Moran was firing shots from his rifle with a silencer. With his renowned shooting accuracy, every shot he made was impeccable and on point.

"Those are some nice moves you got there. You're quite the skilled dancer, aren't you, Mr. Bale?" William commented as he and Lucian watched Dadori trying to evade the bullets.

"Bloody hell!" Dadori cursed as he desperately tried to evade the shooter.

"Oh… I forgot to tell you, she was also longing to dance with you," William cryptically said. As if to prove his point, a shadow crept up on Dadori's back.

Running for his life, he kept shouting. "Please, stop it! Stop!"

On the Criterion's second-floor balcony, Sebastian kept shooting while muttering, "Go and dance…" Meanwhile, on the first floor, a waitress who was in the middle of cleaning habitually looked up at the bridge and was mortified to see a man on it.

"What's going on? By golly! Someone is on the bridge. Not again!" the waitress shouted in distress. This caught everyone's attention in the bar.

They went outside and looked. Some panicked when they saw the scene, while others hung their heads in disappointment. "Looks like another case."

All of the townsfolk had different reactions. The crowd kept growing as those who had been asleep were woken up by the commotion.

As he kept on running for his dear life, Dadori wasn't able to think that he is now standing on the bridge highway, the exact same place where Frida took her own life.

Bullet after bullet kept on hitting him, and as he lost his balance, he fell down to the cold river of Durham. Experience the same treatment he did to Frida.

That night, a large number of folks witness the suicide of Dadori Bale. However, the fog was thick and his body was never recovered. After that incident, all of Dadori's evil deeds were exposed to the entire world, including his involvement on Frida's death.

Meanwhile, at the Hospital ward…

"Are you feeling any better now, sir?" Catherine softly asked a patient who had undergone a hepatectomy (liver resection).

The elderly man smiled weakly at Catherine, his eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and weariness. "Yes, thank you, doctor. The pain is manageable, and I think I'm finally on the mend. It's been a rough few days, but your care has made it bearable."

Catherine returned his smile, gently adjusting his blankets. "I'm glad to hear that. Rest is crucial for your recovery. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call for me. We're all here to help you get back on your feet."

The man's eyes softened as he looked at Catherine. "You remind me of my granddaughter. She's about your age, always so kind and caring. I haven't seen her in a while, though. She's away at London with her parents."

Catherine's expression grew tender. "That's very sweet of you to say. I'm sure she misses you as well. Family is so important, especially during times like these. Do you get to write to her?"

He nodded, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "Yes, she writes often. Her letters are a great comfort. She's studying to be a teacher. I'm very proud of her."

Catherine's heart warmed at his words. "She sounds wonderful. You must be very proud. It's important to have those connections, especially when you're going through something like this. Your family's love and support will be a big part of your healing process."

The patient sighed contentedly. "I believe that, too. And people like you, doctor, make a world of difference. Your dedication and kindness don't go unnoticed."

Catherine blushed slightly, touched by his words. "Thank you, sir. It means a lot to hear that. We do our best to make sure you're comfortable and well taken care of. Now, let me check your vitals and make sure everything is as it should be."

As Catherine gently checked his pulse and adjusted the IV drip, the patient closed his eyes, feeling the calm and reassurance her presence brought. The sterile hospital room seemed a little warmer, a little brighter, with her around.

After finishing her check, Catherine smiled at him once more. "You're doing very well, sir. Keep resting, and we'll have you back to your old self in no time. I'll be back to check on you in a little while. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

The man nodded, his eyes closing as he relaxed back into the pillows. "Thank you, nurse. You've been a great help. I feel better already."

Catherine then went on to check the next patients. The same procedural treatment and all. All of the patients that was operated by Catherine was grateful to her. Some even gave her fruits as gratitude.

Catherine felt bad for not accepting it when the patient itself already put it in her hand. She smiled as she holds the gift tighter in her arms. She quietly exited the room, her heart lighter. Moments like these reminded her why she had chosen this profession.

The ability to provide comfort and care to those in need was the most rewarding part of her job. I had felt different from when she had done charity with her family back when she was still at the Faucigny Castle. Everything was like a drama. She could not feel any warmth or sincere sympathy from her parents, and it was only more or less a fake smile.