Sweet Revenge With My Billionaire Vampire

"Oh, this must mean Miranda didn’t tell you anything," Evans mused, shaking his head. "What a waste. That poor herbalist... died for nothing."

He said it all so casually as if he weren’t talking about the senseless murder of an innocent person. "The herbs themselves weren’t much. Just a little something that boosts plant growth. But—we found... other uses for them."

"Him," he pointed lazily toward Alfonso. "Richard." He pointed to the man still standing stiffly by the wooden beam. "And I found out that the herbs were capable of slowly killing a person, so we bought them. Do you know what we did with them? We paid Miranda to use them on Mother. She didn’t die because of some unknown sickness. She died because we poisoned her."

He reached out, ruffling her hair like she was a clueless child, his touch condescending. He then leaned in, lowering his voice, and whispering directly into her ear—loud enough that everyone could still hear—each word slow, deliberate, and twisted with sadistic glee.

"That’s right, we used them to poison your precious grandmother."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Alfonso and Richard shift uncomfortably, their gazes darting away, their expressions flickering with something dangerously close to regret. The weight of what they had done was suddenly pressing down on them.

"Is this true, Uncle Alfonso," she asked.

Alfonso simply shrugged. "Yes, Adeline. We had to."

She shifted her gaze to Richard, sniffling. "You also took part in poisoning grandma, Uncle Richard?"

Richard nodded hesitantly. "Yes... I had no choice..."

Unlike his brothers, Evans looked nothing short of ecstatic. He looked like a psychopath, completely unaware of the depths of his own insanity. All over money.

A barely noticeable smirk curled on Enzo’s lips. Just like he had wanted, Evan’s just blabbed out everything he and his brothers have done. He knew that crazy people like him wouldn’t miss a chance to brag about the things they’ve done at times like these.

Adeline’s tears kept falling, her sobs turning more ragged, more gut-wrenching, that even Enzo, who knew she had been acting, had to pause for a moment. Because at this point, he wasn’t even sure if she was acting anymore.

Evans grinned as he straightened up, delighted by the sight. "Yes, cry" he encouraged, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Cry harder. Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass you’ve been? It must feel like hell—finding all of this out right before you die."

Adeline began shaking her head frantically, her knees scraping against the floor as she tried to inch forward, closer to him. "No... please, uncle!" she begged. "I don’t want to die!"

Evans laughed—loud and wild, throwing his head back. "On the bright side, since your fiancé loves you so much—" he said in a cheerful tone, flicking the pistol towards Enzo. "I’m going to kill him too. That way, your souls can be together. So cheer up."

Adeline’s head snapped toward Enzo, her wide eyes locking onto his as she spoke telepathically. "There. I got him to say everything. What now?"

Enzo’s response came too casually. "Oh? You’re still acting?" His tone carried a trace of amusement, and then after a slight pause, he added, "I have to admit, you’re damn good. At some point, I thought you weren’t faking it anymore. Well played, cupcake. Well played."

Adeline gritted her teeth, barely holding back from snapping at him out loud. "Now is not the time for compliments, idiot!"

"Ah, yes. Of course."

The contrast between her tear-soaked expression and the dry tone of her thoughts was so absurd it was almost comical.

Evans and Alfonso observed Adeline and Enzo with growing confusion, watching as they continued to stare at each other. Enzo’s slight nods, Adeline’s sharp head movements, and their silent exchange made them look like they had lost their minds.

Evans’ brow furrowed as he glanced between the two before asking, "What the fuck are you two doing?"

Both turned to him at the same time.

Evans, deciding he didn’t care to understand, shook his head and muttered, "Forget it. I’m getting tired of this." His expression darkened as he raised the pistol, pressing the barrel against Adeline’s forehead. "I guess this is goodbye, my niece. I genuinely hope you go to a better place."

Adeline’s heart skipped a beat, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as she instinctively leaned back, trying to put even the slightest distance between herself and the gun.

Her eyes flickered frantically between Enzo and her uncle before she called out in her mind, "Enzo, do something!"

But Enzo wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was locked on the door they had entered from, his expression eerily calm. He seemed to be listening for something, waiting. The moment his ears twitched imperceptibly, the corner of his lips curled into an amused smirk, and he let out a low chuckle.

The sudden sound made Evans hesitate, turning his attention to him. "What the hell’s so funny?"

"Did you get all that, Vincent?" Enzo asked loudly.

Evans blinked, his grip on the gun faltering as he pulled it away from Adeline. "Who the hell is Vin—" His words were cut off by a sudden, heavy thud.

Everyone’s head shifted toward the sound just as Vincent landed gracefully behind Dacatt. He straightened up, wiggling Enzo’s cell phone between his fingers and grinning. "Yes, my liege. Got every single thing on video."

Dacatt, unfazed by the smaller man’s sudden appearance scoffed. To him, Vincent didn’t look like much of a threat—hell, he didn’t look like he could even throw a punch at all.

With a bored look on his face, Dacatt tossed his half-smoked cigar aside, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck

Without warning, he cocked back his fist and swung, but Vincent was suddenly gone.

When his punch hit nothing but air, Dacatt let out a confused grunt, his head whipping from side to side, trying to locate the man who had been standing right in front of him a second ago. "What the—"

A sharp, brutal kick connected with the back of his leg—the same one that hadn’t fully healed— and a cry of agony tore from his throat as his knee buckled, sending him crashing down. He landed on his knees, clutching the area that was hurting with his hands.

A small laugh came from behind him, and as he turned his head to look, Vincent’s fist slammed into his face. A sickening crack followed as blood splattered from his split lips and a broken nose. He fell onto his back, groaning in pain.