He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 69

Laird immediately seized the chance to hurl all the blame onto Sienna, snarling viciously, "Exactly! You dared to break Mr. Blackwood's rules! You must have a death wish!"

"Someone get over here and dispose of this reckless bitch!"

However, the moment his words faded, the room remained dead silent, and absolutely no one moved a muscle.

"She wasn't the one who broke the rules."

Cillian's voice was completely flat, devoid of any fluctuation, yet it sent a fresh wave of cold sweat cascading down Laird's back.

He took slow, measured steps toward Laird. Even though his face remained perfectly blank, he emanated a terrifying, suffocating pressure.

"Welshing on a bet in front of an entire crowd. Did you think about the consequences?"

Laird's knees buckled, nearly sending him to the floor. His voice shook uncontrollably. "M-Mr. Blackwood, I... I was just joking with her! I'll let them go right now."

Cillian said nothing. He simply reached up and methodically unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, exposing the sharp contour of his collarbone.

The movement was casual, lacking any hint of urgency, yet it felt as though it froze all the oxygen in the casino.

The next second, he moved.

No one even processed the motion; they only saw a flash of blinding silver.

Laird's pupils dilated massively. He looked down in sheer disbelief at the handle of the knife now protruding directly from his chest.

"Ugh..."

He opened his mouth, thick blood bubbling past his lips, before collapsing heavily onto the floor. His eyes remained wide open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

A deathly silence suffocated the casino, to the point where even the sound of breathing ceased entirely.

The pungent metallic scent of blood rapidly filled the air. Laird was dead, just like that.

Simon's legs gave out completely, and he collapsed onto the floor. Fiona let out a strangled shriek before Samuel hissed a desperate curse at her, violently clamping his hand over her mouth, terrified that the living grim reaper would notice them.

Cillian smoothly pulled a tissue from his pocket, meticulously wiping away non-existent blood from his hands before carelessly dropping it onto Laird's corpse.

Only when he was finished did he turn his dark gaze back onto Sienna.

"You are incredibly brave."

Hearing those words, Cillian's previously detached expression underwent a subtle shift.

He arched an eyebrow, repeating the name aloud.

"Grant?"

He looked back at Sienna, the intrigue in his pitch-black eyes deepening, though the temperature in them dropped even further.

"I was originally going to let you walk." He let out a sudden, dark chuckle that didn't reach his eyes, brimming with cruel satisfaction.

"But it looks like that's off the table."

Sienna's heart skipped a beat, a heavy surge of dread washing over her.

Forcing herself to stay grounded, she stated coolly, "He and I are already divorced."

Her volume wasn't high, but in the dead silence of the casino, it pierced the air with startling clarity.

Cillian lowered his gaze, his eyes trailing over Sienna's pale but completely fearless face. He let out a soft scoff, his voice laced with gravelly amusement.