I learned something important from Cain. From watching him die.
Violence is visceral. Final. Satisfying in the moment. But it's also traceable. Messy. It leaves evidence, blood spatter patterns, defensive wounds, witnesses who might have seen something.
It requires cleanup and alibis and parents who'll lie under oath.
I couldn't do it again. My father had made that clear. Don't ever ask us to do this again.
So I needed to be smarter.
Manipulation, I realized, was invisible. You could destroy someone's life without ever laying a hand on them. You could isolate them, sabotage them, make them disappear, and no one would ever trace it back to you.
All I had to do was make sure the right people hurt Aria. Or left her. Or vanished from her life entirely.
And when they did, I'd be there. The only one who stayed. The only one who never left.
So that's what I did.
For the next seven years, I perfected it.
And Aria never suspected a thing.
