3. A Girl I Want To Ruin

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DANIELLE

I stood there, letting my older sister cry softly in my arms. In the heart of London, with the suitcase at our feet, she wept and wept, and I let her.

Her pain had been held inside for too long, and now it was pouring out, raw and uncontrollable.

Hanni finally pulled away, her eyes swollen but brighter than they had been in months. "He's—he's gone," she whispered, her voice quivering with an odd mixture of disbelief and joy.

"The police found his body parts scattered, disposed off. They haven't found a single clue about who did it. But he's fucking dead." Her lips trembled as a small smile crept onto her face.

I smiled faintly in return, gently pushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face.

"I'm glad he suffered. How do you feel?" I asked, my voice soft, almost soothing.

Hanni's gaze dropped as she ran a hand through her hair, still trembling. "I'm so fucking happy," she breathed, her voice thick with relief. "He made my life a living hell—I still feel his disgusting hands on me sometimes. I wished I could have killed him myself."

I wished she could've, too.

"Hanni, I'm glad it's over," I murmured, squeezing her shoulder, feeling the weight of the months of torment slowly lifting.

"Me too." She nodded, wiping at her eyes, her breath still shaky. "And I'm so grateful Minji stuck around. After what happened, I was a mess, but she stayed. She never left me."

Minji. Soon-to-be my sister-in-law. I wasn't particularly fond of her laid-back nature, her calmness in the face of things that should've torn her apart.

But I couldn't deny it—she kept Hanni together when I couldn't. She was there when my sister was at her lowest, broken beyond repair.

Lim Sunghyo, that vile excuse for a man, had sexually assaulted my sister at a party four months ago. She had screamed, and I'd heard her. I had rushed into the bathroom to find his filthy hands all over her as she sobbed uncontrollably. He fled like the coward he was, while I held my sister in pieces.

But I found him.

After months of research, I uncovered that he had a long, hidden history of abuse and assault, all swept under the rug by the corrupt police.

He was protected by a system that treated women like disposable objects. There was no justice to be found there.

So, I took matters into my own hands.

I've done it before.

Three men.

Each one vile, each one a stain on the world, all of them evading the law. But not me. No, I don't let men like that breathe the same air as the rest of us. They don't deserve it. And for every woman they hurt, I make sure they suffer.

I'm not an expert in murder, but I've learned. Revenge isn't just my passion; it's become my purpose.

I might be the co-CEO of the company we inherited from our parents, but money means nothing to me now. Vengeance is the only currency I care for.

The Marsh family mansions in New York and London hold the ghosts of our childhood. Each room is filled with memories we'd rather forget.

But Hanni wanted to be married here, in London, where she met Minji. The thought was so cliché, but I indulged her. After all, this was her fresh start.

"Dani, what's up? It's been a while," Minji said as she entered the room where Hanni and I stood.

Her voice pulled me from my thoughts, but I sighed internally, rolling my eyes just enough for Hanni to notice.

"Danielle," Hanni warned softly. She was always the older, wiser one. The one who kept me in check when I didn't want to be.

I plastered a half-hearted smile on my face, turning toward Minji with mild annoyance.

I still couldn't quite believe that Hanni had fallen for her. An author, of all people. Not that I despised books, but Hanni had always dreamed of marrying someone with wealth—someone who could match our family's stature. And now here she was, so deeply in love with a woman who had no interest in anything beyond her writing.

"I'll go rest," I said, excusing myself from the room. The last thing I wanted to do was be involved in any more small talk. I needed space.

I dragged my suitcase down the hallway, passing by lavish decorations and memories I tried to suppress.

The guest room was at the far end of the hall, where I preferred it.

I had no interest in returning to the room I once called my own, where too many nightmares lived.

The scent of candles and aged wood filled my senses as I opened the door.

I let my heels slip off and began unbuttoning my blouse, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over me. The smile tugging at my lips was involuntary.

Kang Haerin.

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since that elevator ride.

Her flustered words, her exposed legs, ones I'd willingly trail burning kisses on. The way she awkwardly avoided my gaze-all of it stayed with me, haunting my thoughts. Her innocence. Her awkwardness.

I wanted her.

The moment she had entered that elevator, rushing in, oblivious to the effect she had on me, I knew.

She was everything I needed, everything I craved. The blush on her cheeks when she realized she'd forgotten her pants, the way she looked at me like I was something dangerous and thrilling—it lit something in me.

Her milky white skin, her smudged lipstick, the way her body moved with discomfort and hidden desire.

I wished I could have told her how badly I wanted to fuck her right there and then, in the elevator as she moaned, oblivious of what name I had.

I wanted to leave her curious, leave her wondering.

And I wanted her to crawl back to me after that, and do it all over again.

And now, I can't stop thinking about her.

I don't know her. But I knew one thing—I wanted to destroy her. To break her down piece by piece until she was nothing but mine.

I pulled out my phone, letting the blouse slip from my shoulders as I dialed a number. The person on the other end picked up after a few rings.

"I need you to find someone," I said, my voice calm and controlled.

"Another man you want to kill?" Chaewon asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"No," I replied, my lips curving into a smile. "A girl I want to ruin."

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