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.
The night I discovered my husband's whore was carrying his heir, I smiled for the cameras-and plotted his ruin. Scarlett was born a queen-heir to a powerful legacy, Luna of the Dark Moon Pack by blood and by sacrifice. She gave everything to Alexander: her love, her loyalty, her life. In return, he paraded his mistress before their pack... and dared to call it duty. But Scarlett won't be another broken woman weeping in the shadows. She'll wear her crown of thorns with pride, tear down every lie built around her, and when she strikes, it will be glorious. The Alpha forgot that the woman he betrayed is far more dangerous than the girl who once loved him.
Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"
For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"
Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.
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