The Beginning Of The End

“Victor…” I couldn't help but let out a moan. His torso pressed against mine, and with a dirty smirk plastered on his face, he went deeper with every move of resistance I made.

How did it end up like this?

*******************

Carrie's POV

What would you do if your father and twin brother were burnt to ashes right in front of you? Or if your pregnant mother was murdered in cold blood, and all you could do was watch?

I don’t know about you, but for me, there was only one path: revenge.

My name is Caroline Slane. I was only 8 years old when my family was taken away from me by the elusive notorious Mafia Boss, only known as The Reaper. A man rumored to be the devil himself, his very name brings a wave of death and devastation. That night—the rain soaked into my skin, the flames crackled and popped as everything I loved burned before my eyes. I remember every second of it. The smell of smoke still haunts me, clinging to my skin as if it’ll never let me forget.

Surviving the streets of Los Angeles as an eight-year-old orphan was a nightmare. Every night was a fight against the cold, hunger gnawing at my insides. I wasn’t living—I was barely surviving. That was until I met Mr. Graystone, a Russian top assassin masking as a businessman. He took me in and trained me to fight. To survive in ways I never imagined. Under his care, I became faster, stronger, a weapon in human form. It was only fair I paid him back by becoming one of his assassins; for you see, Mr Graystone was the leader of an organization called The Shadow; here, we help our clients get rid of unwanted pests, and we always get the job done.

“Caroline… I see you every day push yourself beyond your limit,” Mr Graystone said as he watched me train. His thick Russian accent echoed all over the room. I could sense a bit of unease from the way he spoke

I wiped the sweat from my brow. "Limits are in the mind, sir. They're only real if you believe in them."

He slowly walked closer, hands clasped behind his back, “You know Caroline…” he started, “My people often say; Месть — это огонь, который сжигает душу, поглощая всё тепло, пока не останется любви. Do you know what it means?”

“No sir”. Of course not, do I look like I speak Russian?

“It simply means, Revenge is a fire that burns the soul, consuming all warmth until no love remains.” He was trying to dissuade me, but I wasn’t buying it. His words were just noise— Love? Warmth? Those things didn’t matter to me. Not anymore.

I didn't care about what Mr Graystone or anyone else said to me; what I wanted was vengeance, and I wasn't going to stop until I had The head of The Reaper in my hands.

I swear this on my family's grave!

When I wasn’t training or taking out a target, I was working at Midland Hospital as a nurse. I didn’t care about the patients or their well-being—Hell no! Blood fascinated me, and the hospital gave me access to the medical equipment I needed for my own purposes. It was quite a convenient cover.

******************

It was just another busy day in the ER. The steady beep of heart monitors and the sharp smell of anJtiseptic filled the air. The sound of ambulance sirens grew louder, and I could see through the windows as they rushed someone in.

Then I saw her—Camilla Estella, the famed model, Barely alive, She had bruises all over, bruises that didn't look like the kind you'd get from your usual accident.

"Something must’ve happened," I muttered, not realizing I’d spoken loud enough for others to hear.

"Yeah, no kidding," Dr. Jordan, the head surgeon, snapped. "Now get your ass in there!"

Three hours. That’s how long it took. And still, we couldn’t save her. She died at 11:59 AM. Jordan handed me the paperwork and gestured for me to break the news to her loved ones. Typical. He loved sending me to the war front, watching me deliver bad news while he hid behind his office door.

I went into the waiting room and met a young man standing by the windows. The breeze from the open window rustled the curtains, revealing his face in the dim light. I knew that face. How could I forget it? It was none other than Victor, the only son of the Reaper, the man I swore to kill.

I quickly adjusted my face mask, concealing more of my already hidden face. My pulse quickened, every instinct telling me to strike, but I couldn’t—not here.

How is she?” His voice was ice-cold and devoid of emotion. He didn’t even look at me as he spoke.

“Your friend is...” I started but was cut off.

“I think you mean fiancée.”

Fiancée? Oh shit! How could I not have known? I'd heard on the news that Victor was marrying a famous model, but I had no idea it was Camila.

Suddenly, a plan began to form in my mind. A dangerous plan. One that could get me closer to The Reaper than I ever thought possible. I was going to use the lion's cub to lure it out for the kill. I was going to use Victor. I would take Camilla’s place. I would become the fiancée of the Reaper’s son.

“She’s fine,” I lied smoothly. “But the accident did some damage. We had to take her in for plastic surgery. Her face was severely damaged. But don't worry, you can hardly see the stitches”

Victor’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t flinch. “What else?”

What else? Did he really care about his so-called fiancée?

“She has anemia. It might cause some changes in her behavior and we doubt she'll recover from it.” I swallowed hard, wondering if he’d buy my lie.

“Okay. When can I take her home?”

His indifference was startling.

“An hour,” I replied, my mind already racing with the next steps of my plan. “We just need to give her a quick look.”

“Make it quick,” Victor snapped, answering his phone before storming out of the room, his dark presence vanishing behind the doors.

He really was the son of The Reaper.

**********************

Once I was done, I went back to Jordan's office to report a mission well done. Medical records for each patient were kept in that office, including the death report of Camilla. I had to erase those files, But how?

“Caroline” Jordan called out, “I want you to call Paula to come pick up the patient's corpse”

There was no way I was going to let that happen; if word got out that Camilla was dead, my plan would be ruined. I had to use the only weapon God bestowed upon women that could take out any man… Breasts.

“Sir, could you please check my heartbeat? I don't feel so good,” I stated while unbuttoning the two upper buttons of my shirt. I slowly grabbed his stethoscope whilst maintaining eye contact; I positioned the stethoscope on his ears and ran my fingers from his ear to his thigh; I could feel the vibration in him, he eyed my breasts with such awe, and I could see his dick bulging through his pants. I went in for the kill by leaning towards him and whispering in his ear, “Be a good boy and go get us some condoms, mama wanna feel you”

Like a dog going to fetch a stick, Jordan rushed out of the room. I checked the time and saw I had just 30 minutes before Victor arrived to take his alive fiancee with amnesia home. I went for the drawer and took Camilla's death records and erased her history from the computer. Then I made my way to where Camilla's belongings were and I wore her clothes. Next, I went to dispose of Camilla's body by dropping it over a small cliff that was steps away from the hospital. I rushed to the entrance, barely making it in time. I could see Victor already stepping down from his sleek black car.

“Shit!” I whined, looking at a nearby mirror in disdain as I noticed I had forgotten about my hair. I had short brown curly hair but Camila had long and luxurious black straight hair, typical amongst models. I had to do something and fast.

Just then, two ladies walked past me, having on What looked like wigs matching the type of Camilla's hair. I had no choice, I quickly took the wig off the first lady's head without her noticing. The skills of an assassin tend to come in handy from time to time.

“Camilla?” Victor’s voice cut through the air as he approached me. “Do you remember me?”

I turned slowly, slipping into my new role with ease.

From that moment on, I wasn’t Caroline Slane. I was Camilla Estella. Victor Reaper’s fiancée.

And one wrong move would get me killed