Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 263

Flames danced wildly against the night, devouring blood-soaked clothes and gloves until they were nothing but ash.

The firelight flickered over her face, revealing features carved from marble-icy, aloof, and impossibly serene.

She had a delicate, ethereal beauty: her eyes, dark and fathomless, were as cold as a winter lake, impossible to read, distant and unapproachable. Beneath a sculpted nose, her lips were thin and pale, as though brushed by a winter frost, exuding a chill that held the world at arm's length. She looked like a masterfully carved statue-elegant, untouchable, and wholly apart from her surroundings.

A slim, tall figure, wrapped in black from head to toe, she moved with a grace that concealed strength. Each subtle shift of muscle beneath her clothes suggested not just fragile beauty, but a power that could turn deadly in an instant.

Mandy Shaw gazed at the pile of ash, and only then did the wrath burning inside her finally begin to subside.

The reason she'd snapped and beaten Vincent so savagely-that story started about an hour earlier.

It was Friday night, and the weekend stretched ahead.

May had been pouring all her energy into looking after Claire lately; thinking back, it had been nearly a month since she'd last seen her own precious daughter.

So, she'd called Mandy, and the two planned to meet for dinner at a cozy bistro downtown.

Over simmering broth and tender slices of beef, Mandy checked in on Claire, her concern plain-her greatest worry was always whether Claire was truly safe and well.

with a gentle smile as she described how Sean, Aberdeen, and Grace had all been taking careful care

Mandy finally felt her anxieties

fire ignited in Mandy's eyes. Her grip on

answer to her. Mandy Shaw would never let them off

outlet-until, through the restaurant's bright window,

a single thought took root, growing

said to May, "Mom, my advisor just messaged me.

finally let her go, watching as Mandy

Vincent at

he turned onto a deserted side street, she struck. She pulled out the heavy duffel bag

bag, howling in

move, she

it down hard on Vincent's leg-again and again, until his lower limb was a ruined mess of blood and bone, and he lay gasping, barely conscious. Only then did

finished, it was nearly ten

her shadow stretching long across the

cab when a blast of bright headlights washed

moment later, a sleek Porsche rolled to