“I’m scared,” Priyal said softly.
“There’s no need to be scared,” Dimple insisted, trying to unlock the phone, but her fingers were slippery with blood. “Everything isgoing to be all right.” Priyal didn’t answer. Dimple cursed when she looked up and realized her eyes were closed.
“Hey!” She shook Priyal lightly by the shoulders. “You need to stay awake, okay?”
Priyal murmured something incomprehensible.
Her eyelids slid closed again. Dimple took in a sharp breath. When the girl didn’t rouse, she shook her. Then harder when that didn’t work.
How many times had Dimple seen the life bleed out of a body? And yet this felt like something out of a nightmare. But when she pressed two fingers into Priyal’s pulse and found nothing there, she knew Priyal wouldn’t be able to wake up fromit.
Half an hour ago, they’d been talking about going to the Oscars side by side.How did one win in a world that favored the cruel?Dimple had long since come to realize that the ones who deserved it never won in the end. Perhaps the only solution was to become undeserving.
Dimple didn’t know how long she’d knelt there in front of Priyal’s lifeless body. It could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been hours. With her free hand she’d tried igniting her lighter but was trembling too much for it to work. With a shout of frustration, Dimple tossed the thing aside. It landed in a pool of blood.
Priyal Tiwari was dead, and it was all Dimple’s fault.
Although, despite holding the smoking gun, Dimple hadn’t been the one to shoot her, had she? Dimple turned to face Atlas, who was still kneeling on the ground. He hadn’t moved an inch since the last time she’d seen him.
“You did this,” she accused, rising slowly to her feet.
He didn’t protest. Dimple’s arm was lifting before she realized what she was doing. The barrel of the gun pressed firmly against Atlas’s temple. He didn’t so much as flinch.
She tilted it to a better angle, catching a distorted reflection of herself in its silver exterior. Never had Dimple seen herself like this, set ablaze. Atlas had killed Priyal, and Dimple was going to make him regretit.
There was a bang, but it wasn’t that of a gun. The door to her trailer swung open and someone else came barreling inside.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
September 8, 2026
The scene Saffihad walked in on was a bloodbath. Someone gasped, maybe it was her, maybe any of the other occupants of the trailer.
She shut the door behind her. Andino had seen the letter and gone to her office. Saffi wasn’t sure what he’d put together, but it was clear that he’d realized Dimple Kapoor wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. He had always been one for direct confrontation.
Dimple didn’t jump at her presence like Andino did, but the clench of her jaw gave away her surprise.
“Saffi,” Andino choked out. “Be careful.”
There was so much blood. Priyal appeared to have bled out and Dimple Kapoor was the one holding the gun. None of the puzzle pieces fit.
“What the hell happened?” Saffi found herself asking.
Dimple very pointedly did not look in her assistant’s direction. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
She was right. Saffi didn’t believe her. Andino was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a killer.
“I didn’t mean to,” Andino choked out.
The room spun.
“Oh, so now that distinction is important?” Dimple asked. “After you gave Saffi so much grief about putting that woman on deathrow? And me about Mia? At least we weren’t the ones holding the smoking gun.”
Martinez.So it was true. “Did you know—?”
“No,” Dimple insisted with so much vehemence, Saffi almost took a step back. “What I don’t understand is why you had her follow me when you knew.”
She didn’t finish, but Saffi could understand where she was going. When she knew how dangerous Dimple was. When she knew the bounds of her ambition. When she knew her attention would be focused solely on Saffi. Less than an accusation, it was a plea of desperation.
