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Amy snickered, her green eyes filled with disgust, her lips curling as she examined the gun.

The striking face that the women once associated with angelic beauty was now nothing but a nightmare to them.

Amy pressed the muzzle of the gun against one of the women's heads. The woman froze, her eyes dilating and her entire body started shaking like a helpless leaf in the rain.

"Pl-please, pl-please don't—don't kill us, pl-please!" she pleaded through chattering teeth, her clothes drenched in sweat.

The other woman wasn't faring much better. Tears streamed down her face as the thought of not leaving this place alive made her stomach churn with fear, cold sweat trickling down her spine.

"Did you think I didn't notice you sneaking glances at my man?" Resentment laced Amy's tone, her jaw tightening as she glared at the two girls.

The women's eyes went wide, then blank, their faces devoid of any expression. A strange silence settled over the room, as if they had even forgotten to beg for their lives.

So it wasn't because they had witnessed the murder of another human or learned secrets they were never supposed to hear. No, turns out it was because they had dared to sneak glances at Dylan.

Seeing their innocent expressions, Amy's eyes burned with dark fury. Her nostrils flared, and words spilled out fast and sharp, like daggers thrown in haste.

"What? Cat got your tongue? Can't defend yourselves? You bunch of fucking whores! Thinking that just because you look a bit good, you can seduce any man you want!"

The women's eyes were filled with even more tears.

Who would have thought that their admiration for a handsome man would lead to this?

One of them completely lost it. She began sobbing, her voice cracking with despair as she tried to rise to her knees, rubbing her hands together in a desperate begging motion.

"Please, Miss Amy, we beg you! We will never, ever dare to glance at Mr. Dylan again. Please forgive us! Please, we beg your pardon!"

Amy snarled. "No, I hate empty words. It'd be better if you lost your eyesight instead. That way, there'd never be a mistake—or a stray glance—again."

The women froze, rooted to the spot. In one swift, practiced motion, Amy pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced directly into the woman's left eye.

Blood spilled out, painting a gory scene. One eye was blank and filled with blood, while the other was shattered by the embedded bullet.

The other woman couldn't utter a word. She was completely paralyzed with fear, her breath shaky as she stared at her now-dead companion, murdered right before her eyes.

"Look here," Amy demanded, her expression as cold as ever, except for the touch of madness in her eyes.

Shakily and fearfully, the woman turned her head.

Perhaps knowing what was coming—like a rat cornered by a predator, gasping its last breath—she screamed with all her might:

"Karma will come for you!"

Bang!

The bullet pierced straight into her right eye.

And that was their end.

Dylan finally marched forward, massaging his neck with a hint of boredom. He didn't even spare a glance at the corpses on the floor. Instead, his gaze drifted to Amy's abdomen, then back to her face.

Finally, he cast the corpses a brief glance. "I'll get someone to clean them up."

"Sure," Amy nodded with a soft smile as he led her to the sofa, then left to make a call.

Her eyes darted around the three corpses. The smell of blood somehow made her feel refreshed. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gently soothed her stomach with her hand.

This was her world.

With her man, their baby, and their mansion.

From now on, nothing could stop them from being together—forever, for all eternity to come?

Yes.

Because Quinn is gone.