Chapter 89: The Perfect Victim

Mara’s

I stepped out of the damp, echoing room, wiping Ella’s useless desperation off my mind like bothersome dirt from my expensive shoes. The hallway smelled faintly of cold, wet metal and stale mold, but I didn’t care about the unpleasant environment. I felt exceptionally good. Powerful. Completely in control. That foolish girl actually thought she could somehow return from the dead, effortlessly walk back into my carefully constructed life, and ...