The man raised his hand and stepped a little closer to Cassian. "Yeah! That was me!" Cassian unslung the shotgun from his back. "Got it. Who else is at home with you?" The man quickly pointed to the woman standing beside him. "Just my wife." The woman gave a polite smile and nodded. "Good evening, Mr. Holland." Cassian nodded back, loaded a round into the shotgun with a calm, deliberate click, and said, "Nice plan. Don't make another one." "Huh?" The man blinked, confused. Boom. The deafening blast echoed through the property management hall, so loud it left everyone's ears ringing. "Ahhhh!" "Oh my God! Aaahhh!!" At that range, the shotgun tore a massive hole straight through the man's torso. Blood sprayed everywhere. Screams broke out as people scrambled away from the gore in sheer panic. The entire room was frozen in shock. These rich folks hadn't seen anything like this since the world fell apart. Even before the apocalypse, their lives had been dominated by boardrooms and passive-aggressive business feuds. This kind of brutal, in-your-face violence was way out of their league. Now they were diving behind chairs, covering their heads, crying, shaking. Except for Theodore. Still cool as ever, he didn't even flinch, just popped another handful of popcorn into his mouth.Incredible. Absolutely insane. His hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the thrill. Ever since the feral bloom moved into the neighborhood, Hillside Villa District had gone from boring luxury to pure, bloody entertainment. First, he'd watched her stab someone half to death with a kitchen knife, and now her bodyguard boyfriend had just blown a guy open with a shotgun. Unlike his calm demeanor, the bodyguards behind Theodore had all tensed up. They immediately stepped forward to shield him. But Theodore waved them off, clearly annoyed. What were they so nervous about? He hadn't done anything to Natalie. Cassian wasn't some lunatic, why would he shoot him? All they were doing now was blocking his view. Don't get in the way of the show. On the other side of the room, Cassian turned the shotgun again, this time pointing it directly at the man's wife. She'd already gone into shock. One glance down at her husband's lifeless body, then back up at the cold barrel aimed at her, and she completely broke. She let out a shrill scream, wringing her hands in panic. "Please! Don't kill me! Please, I'm begging you!" A warm stream trickled down her leg. She'd peed herself. She couldn't understand what was happening—why Cassian had suddenly snapped and turned on the two of them like this. But this wasn't a meltdown. It was a message. Cassian didn't hesitate, and he pulled the trigger. Boom. She dropped where she stood. Blood everywhere. A second body on the floor."Aaahhh!!" "Oh my God!! Aaaahhh!!" Screams erupted again. Several women fainted on the spot—well-dressed wives and daughters of the wealthy, dropping like flies. Everyone else scrambled to hide behind furniture, walls, anything that might shield them. Jacob and his family who had dared to argue with Cassian earlier were the most terrified of all. They were practically trying to throw the other homeowners in front of them to block any incoming bullets. Even Talia, who was usually the picture of poise and grace, went weak in the knees and collapsed against Emerson, silently cursing herself for not leaving when she had the chance. And the brown-noser who had stood next to Cassian just minutes ago? He was now pressed flat against the wall, trying to disappear. He took it all back, every thought he'd had about Cassian being calm and rational. This man was terrifying. Two bodies now lay sprawled on the ground, still warm and bleeding. And the worst part? No one knew who Cassian might go for next. The entire house went dead silent. No one dared breathe. The residents were terrified that even the sound of inhaling might draw Cassian's attention and get them sent straight to the grave. The only sound in the room came from Theodore slowly crunching his popcorn—crunch ... Crunch ... Crunch ... His bodyguards stood rigid behind him, backs soaked with sweat. "Please, Mr. Theodore, just keep it cool, okay? If you die here, how the hell are we supposed to explain it to Mr. Mervyn?" they were silently begging.Then, finally, a shaky voice broke the silence. "You can't just go around killing people like that ... acting like life means nothing." Everyone instantly turned toward the voice, horrified. Who the hell was that? Who had the guts to speak up now?! All eyes landed on Whitney—her expression full of outrage, like some kind of walking embodiment of justice, glaring at Cassian with open disapproval. The room collectively held its breath. Her again. Bruno, standing next to her, was drenched in sweat. He kept one eye on Cassian's shotgun while stepping in front of her protectively. "Mr. Holland, Whitney's still young. If she said something out of line, please take it out on me instead." But Whitney leaned out from behind him and snapped, "Bruno, what are you saying? I take responsibility for my own words. You don't need to cover for me! And what exactly did I say that was wrong? He did just murder two people in cold blood!" Bruno was visibly shaking. "Whitney! Stop talking!" Cassian glanced at Whitney, expression unreadable. Ah. The same girl who had defended Natalie's mother earlier. He lowered the shotgun and, for once, responded patiently. Pointing at the body on the floor, he said flatly, "He tried to hurt my wife. So I killed his wife. Fair trade, don't you think?" The room went still again—only this time, with shock. Everyone knew he'd been the district's most eligible bachelor for years. Every single woman of marrying age in the Hillside Villa District had, at one point or another, dreamed about becoming Mrs. Holland.