The Mad Heiress's Revenge

 VOGUE: ELEONORA MERCREDI STUNS THE FASHION WORLD WITH HER DEVIL'S MISTRESSES EXHIBITION, REDEFINES NEO-GOTHIC FASHION WITH TERRIFYINGLY BEAUTIFUL SILHOUETTES, the headlines screamed in bold, monochromatic letters. The letters bled as the spilled blood seeped into it

 The room looked like something out of a Victorian era horror movie. The room was dark and dreary, moonlight slipping through the heavy, burgundy drapes that framed the windows. The only source of light were the thick candles lining every conceivable surface. 

 A hauntingly beautiful woman reclined on the chaise lounge beside the window. Her svelte form draped over the velvety cushion elegantly, her thick raven black hair and midnight blue ball gown spread out. She hummed along softly to Beethoven's 'Für Elise' as she sewed tiny crystal beads onto a pretty silken dress.

 Suddenly, the door flew open with a bang, the thick ebony door slamming against the wall. The woman continued her sewing undisturbed, still humming as tall, armed men ran into the room, guns raised. A fat man dressed in a purple pinstripe with a bulging stomach walked in after them, his face ashen.

 The man croaked, face falling in fear as he took in the scene. Beautiful silks and satins were thrown all over the floors, ripped to pieces. The sewing machines and looms laid broken, like it was run over by a bulldozer. This wasn't what had the guards and Richard Giovanni trembling in fear.

 Eleonora Mercredi laid in a pool of her own slowly coagulating blood looking grotesquely beautiful in a dress made by the fragile woman still patiently sewing on tiny crystal beads. Her hair had been dipped in her own blood and artfully draped over the wrinkled folds of her neck. Her face had been tastefully done up, her lips colored with her blood. The final nail in the beautiful coffin was the pretty, jeweled hairpin stuck in her neck and the sewing needles stuck all over her neck and wrists like a macabre necklace and bracelet set. Her blood soaking through the magazine proclaiming a false legacy.

 Eleonora Mercredi had died dressed in the creations she'd coveted and falsefully claimed as her own by the hands of the rightful creator. It was had a sort of ghastly poetic justice to it, Alexander Mercredi thought, her plump red lips lifting up into a cruel smile as she picked out another crystal.

"You...." Richard Giovanni started, his voice failing him as the scene registered fully. "What did you do?!"

Alexander looked up slowly, the mere action unbearably elegant, fixing cruel ember eyes that were totally at odds with her angelic face on him, "Hmm?"

"What did you do?!" He screeched, walking forward to pull her up by her hair.

Alexander smiled serenely as the dress fell to the floor, not even a wince left her lips, "Mother wanted to look pretty" She said sweetly, "I made her look pretty"

The man's face contorted in fear and disbelief as he released her hair and hurried backwards, "You're..... you're mad!" He yelled, voice trembling.

"Shoot her!" He yelled to the men trembling behind him, "Now!"

Alexander smiled calmly her eyes fluttering shot as one of the men stepped forward, gun raised.

"Make it quick and painless" The man whispered, turning away, his shoulders hunched as regret painted his features. They would do worse to her, he thought sombrely.

"Thank you" 

That was the last word Alexander Mercredi spoke before the bullet left the gun with a bang.