The Silence After

The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the metallic tang of blood. Men moved silently, their expressions grim, as they methodically worked to erase all traces of their presence.

"Is the job finished?" Aiden's voice cut through the silence, cold and authoritative.

"Yes, sir. Are you leaving already?" one of the men responded, looking up from his task.

"Hmm. Got things to attend to. You take care of the rest. Don't leave any evidence behind," Aiden instructed, his gaze sweeping over the room one last time.

"What about the bodies?" the man asked, glancing at the lifeless forms sprawled on the floor.

"Leave them. Their family might wanna see them," Aiden said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Okay," the man nodded, returning to his work.

"I am leaving then," Aiden said to his friend Eddie, turning on his heel and striding out of the room.

***

Aiden ran inside the hotel Orion, his mind racing. Before today, he had completed countless tasks, each more dangerous than the last. Yet today, he found himself conflicted, his heart and mind at odds while carrying out the most important mission of his life.

No matter what he was doing, whenever he caught a moment to breathe, his thoughts would invariably drift back to her. All he wanted was to go back and take that woman in his embrace once again.

He headed straight for the front desk, urgency etched in every line of his face. "Hello," he greeted the receptionist, trying to mask his impatience.

"Yes, sir, how may I help you?" the receptionist asked politely.

"Send breakfast for two to room no. 998," Aiden ordered, already turning to leave.

"Sure, sir. But—" the receptionist started, causing Aiden to pause.

"What?" he asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

"The madam with the Sire last night just left half an hour ago. Does Sire still want breakfast for two?" the receptionist explained, her tone cautious.

"What? She left?" Aiden's heart sank, his mind reeling.

"Yes, Sire," the receptionist confirmed.

"Did she leave any message for me? Or anything?" Aiden asked, desperation edging his voice.

"Actually—" the receptionist hesitated.

"What? Speak!" Aiden snapped, the tension in his voice palpable.

"I saw madam running out of the hotel. Although it wasn't very visible, I somewhere believe that she was crying. She was pale and staggering her way out of the hotel," the receptionist admitted, her eyes downcast.

"Crying?" Aiden repeated, the word echoing in his mind, piercing through his earlier resolve.

"... Sorry, Sire."

"Did she never look back?" Aiden asked, his voice a whisper now, laden with regret.

"..."

"It's okay. I'll take my leave now," Aiden said, turning away, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had just learned.

As he walked away from the front desk, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He had intended to return to her, to tell her everything. But now, it seemed he was too late. The image of her running out of the hotel, crying and alone, was burned into his mind. It filled him with a sense of urgency he had never felt before. 

He needed to find her. He needed to make things right. But knowing that she had run away with tears because of him, he felt a pang of guilt deeper than he had ever known. She might even be regretting their whole meeting, the thought gnawing at his insides like a relentless beast.

He stepped out of the hotel and into the morning light. As he walked outside, he spotted Eddie and Harris, two of his men, waiting by the car.

"Hey! Why are you back already?" Eddie asked, noticing Aiden's troubled expression.

"What about your woman?" Harris inquired, concern in his voice.

"She is gone," Aiden replied desperately and sadly, his shoulders slumping.

"To where?" Eddie pressed.

"Away from me," Aiden answered, the desperation in his voice unmistakable.

"... You alright, man?" Harris asked, stepping closer, his brow furrowed with worry.

"..."

"You wanna look for her?" Eddie offered, ready to assist.

"No," Aiden said, his voice hollow. He turned away from them, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. As long as she doesn't want it, he won't.

***

Evelyn came back to her mansion, only to find blood everywhere and everything broken. She saw numerous bodies lying in front of her, and among them were her father and brother.

She stands frozen, her breath caught in her chest. The sight of her father and brother's lifeless bodies sends a wave of cold through her veins. Her mind races, grappling with the enormity of the loss.

Just a few hours ago, everything was fine. Perfect, even. And now, in an instant, it's all gone. Her heart feels like it's shattering into a million pieces.

'This can't be happening. Not them. Not like this.'

Every memory of them floods back – her father's stern but loving guidance, her brother's mischievous grin. She struggles to keep her expression hard, fighting the tears that threaten to spill.

'I can't break. Not here. Not now.'

Her heart feels like it's shattering into a million pieces. The pain is almost unbearable, a suffocating weight pressing down on her chest.

'Why? Why did it have to be them? They were everything to me. How can I go on without them? '

She feels the eyes of her clan on her, waiting for her reaction. She knows she must be strong, but inside, a storm of grief and rage brews.

'They took everything from me. My family, my world... it's all gone. How do I fill this void?'

She forces herself to breathe, to push back the crushing despair.

'I will never hear their voices again, never feel their embrace. The emptiness is too much. How do I bear it?'

She fights to keep her composure, her mind swirling with sorrow and anger.

'Their laughter, their strength, their love... all stolen in an instant. The pain is endless, but I must endure.'

She sat straight, her exterior composed, but inside, she was a maelstrom of agony.

'I will not let their deaths be in vain. I will make sure their legacy endures. But right now, it just hurts so much.'

Everyone's eyes were fixed on Evelyn. The entire clan was in turmoil, leaderless and uncertain. In one tragic night, both their leader and his heir had been brutally taken down. Who could rise to lead them now? The side families were not an option; passing the mantle to them would break the ancient lineage of the main family.

Despite their confusion, the clan looked to Evelyn, the princess, with a mix of hope and expectation. They knew tradition dictated that a girl couldn't lead a mafia clan, but Evelyn was different. They waited for her command, curious to see how she would navigate this unprecedented crisis.

Evelyn sat on the floor, her father and brother's lifeless bodies resting on her lap. She gently caressed their heads, as if her touch could bring them back to life. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of memories and grief, interrupted by the voice of one of her men.

"Miss," he called gently.