Clarissa:

My eyes watered as I chopped up the onions. I set the knife down and paced around the counter as the broth bubbled in the pot.

As I stared at the boiling pot, a flash of Erica came into my mind. Her monstrous form and the death of her father. The purple hue on his skin was exactly the same as that on Lorenzo's arm.

It just didn't make sense. I asked my assassin to kill Erica. Why didn't he do it? Was he a fraud?

I had tried to contact him severally, but his phone rang, and there was no answer. Had I been duped?

I gritted my...