2:15 PM. St. Nicholas Hospital, ICU.

The rhythmic whoosh-click of the ventilator was the only sound in the dimly lit room.

Aria locked the door behind her with a soft click. She moved with the efficiency of an assassin, placing her Chanel purse on the chair and retrieving the vial of muscle relaxant she had stolen from Damian.

She held it up to the light. Clear. Lethal.

She walked to the bedside. Vivienne looked pale, her skin almost translucent against the white sheets. The bruises on her face had turned a sickly shade of yellow-green.

"I didn't want it to end this way, Viv," Aria whispered, uncapping the syringe she...