Maurice smiled helplessly, as if oblivious to Felicia's murderous intent, and slowly took the rifle from Baldy. "Let me handle this," he said. He'd personally killed his father and a brother; adding an old woman to the list held no fear. But Felicia was different. Despite having dismissed the nearby maids, gossip was inevitable. News of Felicia's attempt on Kelsey's life would incite revenge from Kelsey's former followers. She would never know peace again.

He raised the rifle and calmly pulled the trigger, without blinking. Kelsey, emerging from inside, saw the rifle and recoiled in shock, but it was too late. His shot was swift and precise. With a casual flick of his wrist, she fell.

"The old hag wanted to kill me, so I killed her. Problem solved, right?" Maurice blew on the rifle's muzzle, a carefree smile on his face, his words directed at everyone present. The decision, and the action, were his. It had nothing to do with Felicia. He didn't mind taking the blame for another death, but he wanted her hands clean. She hadn't anticipated this; she'd thought he was stopping Baldy to protect Kelsey.

"I'm not going to thank you," Felicia said, stowing her silver needles, her expression cold, distant.

Maurice tossed the rifle aside, leaning in to whisper, "You will."

She was speechless. Crazy.

With Kelsey eliminated, Gabby wailed, lunging at Maurice. His men quickly subdued her, gagging her and dragging her away. He was never one for kindness.

In the courtyard, Baldy trembled, regretting his inaction. Had he helped Felicia sooner, he might have begged for mercy. Now, it was too late. Maurice had planned to throw him into the crocodile pit, but Felicia stopped him. This was her mess; she wouldn't burden anyone else.

Felicia handed Baldy a small porcelain bottle. "I told you I'd give you a choice. This bottle contains two pills—one poison, one not. You decide."

The pills were distinct—one large and black, the other small and white. He swallowed nervously, begging, "Ms. Fuller, please don't kill me! I'll obey your every command forever!"

"Choose," she said, unmoved. She recalled Carmen's fall, the blood, the terror. Baldy would have succeeded if Carmen hadn't shielded her. He shouldn't have pleaded innocence; as a hitman, he faced the consequences of failure. People in this line of work rarely got lucky. Trembling, Baldy chose the white pill and swallowed it.