The Lace Noose: A Wedding for the Dead

The helicopter didn't bring the rival I expected. It didn't bring the police, or a way out.

As the dust settled on the white sand, the man who stepped off the chopper wasn't a stranger. He was the reason I started this bloodbath in the first place. He was the reason I spent three years changing my face, my name, and my soul.

It was Leo.

The same Leo I saw get shot in a cold alley in San Jose three years ago. The same Leo whose "death" at the hands of Arthur Sterling fueled my every waking nightmare. I’ve been killing Arthur slowly to avenge a ghost—only to find out the ghost has been on the payroll the entire time.

I’m standing here, clutching this expensive lace—part of the "vow renewal" dress Arthur bought me—and I realize it’s not a dress. It’s a shroud.

"You look surprised, Mia," Leo said, his voice as cold as the Silicon Valley winter. He wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at the encrypted hard drive tucked into the silk in my hand. "Did you really think I’d let a billion-dollar payout go to waste just to play hero?"

The dog-blood irony hit me like a physical blow. I had destroyed my life to avenge him, and he had faked his death to use me as his inside agent. He didn't want my love; he wanted the codes. He let me sleep with the enemy, let me poison a man, let me become a monster—all so he could fly in at the last minute and collect the spoils.

I looked back at the camera, at Arthur’s brother who was still frozen in shock. Then I looked at Leo.

My savior wasn't a victim. He was the architect.

I felt the weight of the small, ornamental dagger hidden in the folds of the lace. If I’m going to be a monster, I might as well be the one who survives the finale.

"Come get the drive, Leo," I whispered, a smile finally breaking across my lips—a real one this time. "But remember what you taught me: in San Jose, the only thing cheaper than a life is a promise."

The wedding is canceled. But the funeral is just getting started.