Violent Sins (New York Sinners Series Book 3)

1| Revenge

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Revenge

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Chapter 1: Revenge (Rose's POV)

Revenge was often a crime of passion. It was as wickedly human as an emotion could be. It could never be concealed beneath a facade of virtue, couldn't nestle itself within the confines of morality. 

Revenge was real. Honest. Raw. Revenge was ruthless and brutal. But tonight wasn't about revenge for all of us. 

It was about Tchaikovsky, his misery, and one of the masterpieces it created; Swan Lake. Shadows lingered in every note of the composition as we watched ballerinas dance across the stage. 

The Metropolitan Opera House was flooded with New York's corrupt and elite that night; every corner was being used for deals so immoral and bargains tainted by ill intent. 

I suppressed a sigh of agitation as the whispers around me continued, men mercilessly ruining the performance for what they called business in our world. Unable to enjoy the show, my eyes began drifting from the stage and to the crowd below while I observed from one of the balconies up above. 

My parents were undoubtedly in attendance, hidden somewhere within the audience, and my older brother was lodged right beside me, networking in his own ways, but I was here for my own reasons tonight. 

Better yet, I was here for Marshall's reasons. Although the case wasn't entirely mine to work on, I was called for backup, and I intended to help as best as I could. I was firmly instructed to stick to orders and complete the mission. 

In other words, I had a man to kill at The Opera tonight. 

My hand absentmindedly drifted up to my earrings as I continued to fidget with them, watching the two men converse in hushed whispers a few rows down from me. A moment later, one of them rose out of his seat and left the theater with his phone buzzing in his palm. 

There goes my victim. 

Exactly eight minutes later, I followed. "Dom," I whispered softly, turning to him once I cleared my throat. 

Pausing his conversation, he briefly turned to me. "Yes, Rose?" he asked. 

"I need to step out for a moment." 

He warned quietly, "Rose." 

"Dominic," I mocked, tipping my head to one side. 

"Don't let Dad catch you," he hushed me as I rose to my feet. 

With one final look at him over my shoulder, I slipped out of my seat and gathered my dress, silently walking up the steps and escaping through the back door, entering the main foyer. With the entire crowd nestled inside the theater, the lobby was deserted and deafeningly silent. 

My footsteps were muffled against the scarlet carpet as I wandered down the halls, glancing at the photographs on display while dim, amber lights casted a honey-gold hue over the place.