Two days had passed since Daniella and Andrea's spectacular birthday. The sun was shining high over Washington. That day, Dylan, Daniella, and Andrea had decided to go for a walk, minds at ease, as if peace had finally returned.
They laughed together, strolling down a quiet tree-lined avenue. Dylan knew the time had come. He had made his decision. He was going to tell them the truth. Everything. That he was Victoire. That all this time, he had lived in secrecy, carrying the weight of their separation and pain on his shoulders. He no longer wanted to hide.
But somewhere, perched on a nearby rooftop, a silhouette watched them through the scope of a sniper rifle. Ryder.
Cold heart. Dark gaze.
He couldn't live with the lie any longer. Diego had told him that Dylan had killed Victoire. And this scene—those laughs, that shared joy—was unbearable. He had planned everything. The angle. The distance. The exact moment.
— I'm sorry, Victoire… I'm going to avenge you, Ryder murmured.
Dylan, meanwhile, slowed his pace. He turned to Daniella and Andrea.
— "Listen… there's something I have to tell you," he said with a trembling voice. "Something I've been hiding for a long time."
Andrea frowned. Daniella stopped, paying close attention.
— "What are you talking about?" Daniella asked gently.
He took a deep breath.
— "I am…"
BANG!
A gunshot cracked through the air. The sound echoed down the street. A scream. Andrea screamed. Daniella froze. Dylan blinked, panicked, then looked down at his chest. No injury.
But… someone collapsed in front of him. A body. Blood.
— "Diego!" Dylan cried, dropping to his knees.
Diego had appeared out of nowhere, at the exact moment. He had stepped in the way. The bullet had struck him straight in the heart.
— "No… no… no… stay with me… DIEGO!"
Andrea stood shaking, hands covering her mouth. Daniella was already crying.
Diego raised his eyes to Dylan, blood on his lips. He murmured faintly:
— "Protect… their truth…"
Then he lost consciousness.
Ryder, shocked, lowered his weapon, trembling. He hadn't seen him coming. He thought he was shooting Dylan. He thought… he was bringing justice. But he had hit Diego. He stepped back, gasping.
— "What have I done…?"
He fled the rooftop, disappearing into the alleys like a shadow.
But Dylan… had caught a glimpse. A silhouette. A familiar shape. Not enough to be sure, but enough to know it wasn't a stranger.
The sound of ambulance sirens quickly filled the air. Dylan, his face frozen with fear and rage, accompanied Diego to the hospital. Andrea remained silent. Daniella was shattered.
But that night… the truth remained untold.
And somewhere in a dark corner of the city, Ryder kept repeating to himself:
— "This isn't over. You'll pay, Dylan. Even if it wasn't you… I'll find the truth. And I'll get my revenge."