The grand living room was not only eerily quiet.
But also empty, and there was no sign of any maid, butler, or even a guard in it. Where the hell had everyone gone; and leaving everywhere in a mess at that?
Knowing she had no time to dwell on it, Genevieve rushed toward the spiral staircase and began her ascent. The train of her dress tangled around her legs more than once, but she swiftly steadied herself, never pausing until she reached her door.
Pushing the door open, she stepped in and was about to lock the door behind herself when her mother's voice came from behind her, ''Genevieve!''
Genevieve froze, her breath catching as she peeked outside. It was indeed her mother, sprinting down the hallway toward her, a trail of blood marking her path.
"Mama, where's Vince?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Her brother was nowhere in sight. She clung to the hope that her worst fear wasn't true, but the sorrow etched on her mum's face and the tears brimming in her eyes confirmed the nightmare she dreaded.
Vincent had been shot dead. Just like her Papa was.
Her mother burst into the room, slammed the door shut, and whispered in a shaky voice, "Lock the door, Eve."
Genevieve obeyed without hesitation.
"Get in the closet like I told you. They'll find us here." Stella's voice was barely above a whisper.
Genevieve's eyes locked onto the blood seeping from her mother's wounded arm, and she shook her head slowly.
"No, Mama. I locked the door, so they won't be able to get to us. Let's stop your bleeding first."
Stella swayed on her feet, her breathing shallow. "Listen to me, Eve," she murmured, her strength fading with every word. "They'll get to us. They will break the door down. But I can't let that happen... I need you safe."
"Then we'll hide together, Mama," Genevieve insisted. "We'll be safe together."
A sad smile ghosted across Stella's lips. "I won't make it, baby. But you will. Get inside and wait for your aunt. Mama loves you."
The younger girl's body trembled as tears blurred her vision. "But i can't just..."
"You can," Stella cut in, her voice firmer than before. "And you will." Seeing her daughter frozen in place, she forced herself upright and gripped Genevieve's hand with her own that still had strength.
She staggered, pulling her toward the closet, but after just three steps, her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor, the fight slipping from her body.
Unable to do anything else, Genevieve knelt in the center of her lavish, princess-like room draped in soft pinks and delicate silks, her trembling hands clutching the satin hem of her dress. Tears blurred her vision as she stared at her mother's almost lifeless body sprawled across the polished marble floor, a crimson pool spreading beneath her like a dark, wilting rose.
''Go, Eve! Your aunt will be waiting for you at the back entrance. Leave now... before it's too late," Stella sighed, "Gosh, now, i'm just blabbing. Just go in and lock the door after you. You must not answer anyone, whether it's a maid or a guard, except it's your Aunt Anna, okay?''
Genevieve shook her head vehemently. ''No, Mum. Don't talk like that and ask me to leave you," she refused. "You are hurt. You have been shot. I can't leave you alone here until a doctor arrives.''
''No…'' A splutter of coughs rented the air, followed by the racking sound of Genevieve's sobs, which seemed to be increasing as the seconds passed. ''Don't say anything, Mummy. It's only making matters worse…''
The door swung open with jarring force in that moment, and the sound of multiple gunshots rented the air. The words died on Genevieve's lips.
Stella gathered all the strength she could muster and pushed herself up slightly. She pushed Genevieve into the nearest open door, and the latter could only watch the door close as the life slowly seeped out of her mother's eyes, the older woman's head hitting the floor.
"Mama!!!" a numbing scream tore from her lips.
As soon as everywhere went silent on the other side of the door, Genevieve cried and sobbed until the tears weren't coming anymore.
This was all her fault.
If she hadn't so stupidly insisted that all her friends be allowed in whether vetted or not, her own family would still be alive now. If she had initially been patient and allowed her parents to conduct their research and vet the guests, the intruders would have been fished out and eliminated before they even got into the mansion grounds.
Now it was too late.
Now her family was gone, and the friends whom she so foolishly wanted to please had returned to their respective families, coocooned in their parent's embrace while she would never feel hers again.
It all felt like a dream; a nightmare she wanted to wake up from, but after pinching herself several times and ending up with bruises all over her previously flawless skin, she realized it was reality.
And she fell back to her game of self blaming. What the hell was the use of a birthday party without her parents celebrating with her?
As she cried herself to sleep hours later, still in her bloodied princess birthday gown, she came to a conclusion on two things.
One, she had killed her parents. Even though it was indirectly, she had still helped the attackers to get in.
Two, she couldn't take her own life as atonement for her actions, especially now that her parents and brother had died protecting her. The only way to atone for her sin would be to find the people behind this attack and making them feel the same level of pain her parents felt before dying; make them regret doing it, and then end them the same way they ended her family.
That night, huddled in the darkness of the closet, something inside Genevieve Stellina Armani shattered beyond repair. The light that had once lived in her eyes, bright and unwavering, flickered out and got replaced by a cold, unrelenting thirst for vengeance.
When her aunt arrived the following night to retrieve her, she immediately noticed the change; that the fire in her niece's gaze was no longer that of an innocent girl but of someone who had already decided her fate. It was the reason why when Genevieve declared, without hesitation that she wanted revenge, Anna didn't argue. She couldn't.
She knew the little girl would go ahead, with or without her support, so she agreed immediately.
As they slipped through the mansion's back gate under the cover of darkness, Anna's voice was a quiet promise in the night. "At the orphanage I manage, you can rest, gather your strength. And when you're ready… we'll craft the perfect plan to make them pay."
Genevieve gave a firm nod, her resolve unshaken. She didn't care how long it took or how dangerous it would be.
She must make them pay!
And she would do anything, even sell her soul to the devil, to make it happen.