Deleting soon
Deleting soon
1
"Momma, What's wrong? Why did those men have to kill Papa, Lucien and the others?" wetness stained my cheeks watching my little feet run along with my mom, most of my weight been pulled by her as we ran through the hidden walls in our home leading to my room.
"There's no time for that my little one. Know that they are bad people out there who will kill us for any price that's why you have to go." she unlocks the door poking her head into my room quietly pulling me in. I was so confused watching her open another wall getting my backpack out. My parents always plan ahead in case of unfortunate events like this. It was our emergency get away bag, new passports and euros filled to the brim so we won't be tracked by our cards.
I began to cry knowing what is about to happen next and so did she. "Momma I can't leave you. I won't survive out there alone."
"You are a Vatore and Vatore's always survive." she says boldly even with the tears falling down her eyes. We heard voices snapping our head to the door. She smiles warmly kissing my forehead.
"Quick, you have to go." pulling me back to the hidden hallway. I stop abruptly watching her.
"To where momma?" crouching low her warm soft hand tuck fallen tendrils behind my ear. I didn't want to go, I don't know anywhere. All my life, I've never left the comfort of my home and now I'm supposed to run away. More tears spilled from my eyes. This was meant to be the best birthday ever but those men had to ruin my life. Taking everything from me.
"Anywhere my baby. Never stop running till you find the men who ruined our family. Brutally killing the ones, you love. You have to avenge us." I nod sniffing and crying.
"I will momma. I will." I promise her just as they broke the door. She pushed me locking me out of sight.
"Go! Go!"
"Momma! No! Come back momma!" Shouts and screams came from momma and I knew she struggled with the men taking her captive. I stood there crying clutching my bag.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Silence. Tears spilled uncontrollably from my eyes as my hand clasp my mouth shutting the heart wrenching scream that almost escaped which would alert them of where I am. Foot steps is heard as I sobbed running from the door.
"Find her! Find her!!!"
I jolted awake sweating profusely fear coursing through my skin. My eyes scanned the surroundings of my very new apartment. Breathing heavily, I held my heaving chest trying to calm myself and accept it was just a bad dream. A bad dream which have been following me for the past eight years since I ran away from Italy. To the wall, my eyes traced every faces I pin on a board with locations of each victim I've hunted down and killed leading to the death of the Vatore empire. My family.
Pulling the covers off me, my fuzzy covered feet lands on the floor. You must be missing out if you have never slept wearing a fuzzy sock in your life. Its another whole definition of epicity. That's my own word for epic if you get confused. Connecting my phone to the wireless beats by Dre speaker, my favorite track sit still, look pretty a Barden Bella cover blasts off the small but mighty device. The sun shining like no tomorrow, cars hooting and driving through, music at a distance, people talking and laughing. I dance around my apartment cleaning and rearranging the place to my taste. Singing and screaming along with the lyrics of the song as I fix the common room, bedroom and kitchen into a pretty decent condo. What a great day to start a new life in another state. Did I tell you how much I love this country even if this is my second state here after living in about seven different countries with different identities. Trust me, my life is a bliss.
I've been a stripper, an escort, a nanny, a tech engineer to a secret service agency, the list goes on with the fun identities I have for each country and let's not go to the names. Now in Florida, Miami I got a job as a waitress in a prestigious hotel near Miami beach. I get to wear a white bikini bra and little matching short skirt prancing around with orders of customers by the pool area. Well my last job was at a local diner in New York, a bustling city that have more humans than housing. Let's just say, I dealt oh so well with the pervy manager who sat in for the owner of the place who I might add is so hot even in his forties. I would definitely fuck him for free if not that he was rarely ever around and he has such intimidating aura around him. Plus, he is Russian. That's a red flag I won't take a blind eye at. Ladies heed my words, never, ever, dismiss the red flag no matter how much your lady bits' throb for it. To me, Five words.
Never mess with the Russians.
After placing each set of cutleries like my momma use to do, I pick up the bread and jam since I'm out of my Nutella and simmering cheese fried omelet. Buttering the jam on the bread, carefully I place the omelet on it before sealing it with another jammed bread. I smile appreciating my handwork. Food is what I call BAE. Before Anyone Else. I'm Italian and I love food. Go hug a transformer if you want to give me attitude.
Moaning at the first bite, I twirl dancing out of the kitchen with my yummy goodness locked in the grasp of my fingers. Back to my story, I won't say life have truly been unfair to me. Taking my family away from me, killing the people who brought me pains and misery, jumping from one country to another in fear of been caught by the last surviving member and ruining my last chance at revenge. Nope. Life is good.
The only question I ponder is who is the leader to all the dead souls I killed. He was sleek, leaving no traces of him with his counterparts and the foolish souls never ever saw his face. Like ever. Making my job harder than it is. But I'll catch him, it's just a matter of time and that time I won't misuse. So here it is, my story of my very own shitty life. Looking out my huge window at the beach far off, I reminisce the moment back in Italy. A crazy smile crept on my face. I'm no longer that little over price girl, pampered and showered with love from her family. I'm a grown woman with ample fitting chest, wide hips just like my momma, slim waist and toned legs that could go forever. A force to be reckon with now, and Miami is my new home. A home close to killing the bastard who took that little girl away from me.
Once upon a time, I was once a princess. Now I'm just a girl on a mission.
For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all-from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn't return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel's terminal illness and realized she didn't have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.
"Please believe me. I didn't do anything!" Thalassa Thompson cried helplessly. "Take her away." Kris Miller, her husband, said coldly. He didn't care as she was humiliated for the whole world to see. What would you if the love of your life and the woman you considered your best friend betrayed you in the worse way possible? For Thalassa, the answer was only one; she's going to come back stronger and better and bring everyone who made her suffer to their knees. Let the games begin! ***** "I hate you." Kris gritted out, glaring into her eyes. Thalassa laughed. "Mr Miller, if you hate me so much, then why is your dick so hard?"
On the night of our engagement, I learned the truth-his heart still belonged to someone else, his first love. Three years slipped by while I pretended to be ugly and a fool, helping him rise from housekeeper's son to talk of the town. But he stood by as she accused me of theft and even sent men to ruin me. "She stole my beloved's success. Do whatever you want with her." For years, I had hidden behind a mask, and he probably never realized that the true heiress to a vast fortune was right before his eyes. I stopped pretending. When everyone mocked me, I stunned them with my real beauty. Anyone who tried to steal my work found their plans crushed. My ex tried to humiliate me, so I forced his father to kneel and apologize. The school buzzed, trying to guess who was backing me. My father, the richest man alive, said, "She is my daughter." The nation's top doctor added, "No one can threaten my mentor." The leader of a global arms syndicate took me in his arms and declared, "She is my woman." Watching the scene as he knelt, my ex burst into tears, begging for a second chance.
Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.
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