ASH'S POV

014

I’ve always waited for this day—the day I’d finally get my revenge.

I still remember that night like it was yesterday. Two days after my father passed away, my mother and I were returning from the bank. We had nothing left after my father died, no money, no way to survive. Taking a loan was our only option.

The streets were dark, eerily silent, as we walked home clutching the bag that held our last hope. And then, they appeared.

Two boys—one older, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and the other barely thirteen. They didn’t wear masks. They weren’t afraid of being seen.

The older one, the one with the gun, pointed it at my mother. “Give me the bag.”

She refused. She had to refuse. That money was our only chance.

He struggled with her, yanking at the bag, his grip tightening in frustration. My mother wouldn’t let go. She fought for it. And then—

Bang.

The sound still rings in my ears. A single gunshot, then my mother’s body collapsing to the ground. Her lifeless eyes staring up at me.

I was only seven. A little girl, too shocked to scream, too weak to fight.

The younger boy grabbed the older one’s arm. “Lucas, let’s go!”

And that’s how I knew his name. Lucas.

No one came to help. No one saw. Just the two of them, leaving my mother to die in the street.

I swore that night that I would never forget their faces. That I would find them. That I would make them suffer.

I was later adopted by a wealthy family, given a new life, a new name. I learned to play my role well. Acting became my career, my mask, my weapon.

And now, after years of planning, after years of waiting—one brother is dead. The other will soon be sentenced.

Present Day

The sirens wail, flashing red and blue against the night. Ryan, still covered in Lucas’s blood, stands frozen as the officers grip his arms, pulling him away from the body of his brother.

He looks at me. His face is a mix of shock, pain, betrayal.

"Ash..." His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. His entire world has just collapsed, and he doesn’t even know why.

I flinch, stepping back as if the mere sound of his voice terrifies me. The officer beside me places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"He’s been violent with me before," I whisper, loud enough for them to hear. I let my bottom lip tremble, my eyes fill with tears. "He—he’s always had a temper. I never thought he would go this far..."

Ryan’s head snaps up. "What?" His voice is sharp, desperate. "Ash, what the hell are you saying?"

I press my hand against my chest, swallowing down a sob. "You killed your brother!" I scream, my voice breaking. "And now you’re trying to blame me?"

The officers tighten their grip on him as he thrashes against their hold. "No! That’s not—Ash, you know the truth!"

I let the tears fall freely now, burying my face into the officer’s shoulder. "Please... just take him away," I whisper brokenly.

Ryan is shoved into the back of the police car, his wild, desperate gaze still locked on me. His hands shake, smeared with his brother’s blood.

And then, finally, the realization dawns in his eyes. He knows.

Maybe not everything. Not yet. But he knows I did this.

I hold his gaze, my lips barely curving into a smile before I wipe my tears away.

Checkmate.