Vasili's POV
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Shocked at myself and even more shocked at my actions, I walked over to my car, mentally calling myself all the vile words in my vocabulary.My body was still strung up from a mere kiss. I scrubbed a palm over my face, thinking about how I would have likely taken her up against the wall if she did not take matters into her own hands. Literally, I thought drily, shutting my eyes for a moment.
I placed my forehead on the steering wheel for a minute and allowed thoughts of what I was about to do infiltrate my mind.
Guns. I was about to buy a billions worth of arms.
Not without my right hand man, of course. My cousin Benedikt. He was getting a lot too nosy lately, I thought, irritated.
Only God knew what he would think of me kissing Emily Moralez. Then I shoved the thought aside, not knowing why I even cared. I did not need anybody's f*cking approval or dis
Emily's POV. . Today was my engagement day. Little wonder why I felt like shit. I winced when a sharp pain lanced down my head and an unholy headache started to throb at my temples. A whimper escaped my lips as I slowly brought my palms down on my head. Why was I feeling this way again? Luna. The name came with a bolt of realisation. I'd gone to a party with her last night, and was probably having a hangover. A series of memories soon started to unfold. Jerry had cheated on me. I'd ran away from the club...I'd kissed a stranger. I bolted upright. And soon regretted it. "Oouuuchhh," I intoned as I winced in pain. My head started to spin, and so did my stomach. I ran to the bathroom when it became evident I was about to puke. Bending over, I hurled what felt like the entire content of my stomach into the toilet. I got up after I was certain there was nothing left in my gut. Staggering, I went over to the sink
✾Brief Author's Note✾ My female MC's 11 years old in this chapter. Happy reading!.Eight years ago...I was seething.Perhaps that's why I did what I did next.I killed him.Someone snorted beside me. "Fantasising about killing him again, Emily?"I sighed, squinting against the glare of the noonday sun as I shifted on the springy grass so that I was facing my best friend, Luna D'Agosto. "As if," I denied with
'8 years later.'♠︎Vasili♠︎︎..The man before me choked on his own blood. The thick red colour matted the hairs on his temples and slowly dripped down his mouth to the torn, tattered remains of his suit, dampening it into a darker shade. One of my enforcers lurked behind him with a bloodied knife.The sight would have been distressing for some.But not for me.The metallic smell coating the cell room slaked the bloodlust of the beast within me. The sight of Mercutio Ivanov bound in my cell room, choking on his own blood, was almost too good to be real. The sound of his suffering, music to my ears.My voice began slowly, calmly. "Did your bratva aid Riccardo Moralez in the bombing?"Mercutio's eyes, which were lifeless pools on a mere human shell, narrowed on me murderou
♠︎Emily♠︎ ..The shocked faces of the people on the sidewalks we sped past made me laugh harder. A snorting-squealing-giggling maniacal kind of laugh. "Today's the best day of my fudgemuffin life!" I screamed as the winds pulled the flesh on my face taut."F*ck yeah!" Luna screamed gleefully, tightening her hands around the steering wheel. Breaking the no cursing rule.My hand immediately strained towards the backseats of the car, where our bags were.Despite the struggle, I dug into my bag and pulled out a yellow notebook. I wasn't about to let five dollars slip through my fingers.My heart sang joyfully as I ticked Luna's name under the offenders slot.Luna screamed, horrified, the shrillness of her voice getting lost in the furiously wafting winds. "I thought I threw that f*cking book away!"Another tick. I was ten dollars richer. Today was really the best f*cking day of my life...The sharp crack of a slap landed on my cheek hotly, snapping my head to the side.My mother, for a
The next day had me poring over my drawings. Sketches of tentative silhouettes and half-finished lines met my gimlet-eyed perusal. I had resolved, somewhere between crying my eyes out and cursing my fate, that I'd take up where I left off in plotting my mock label.Madame Bijou--the woman I was interning under this break--had tasked us--the interns--with releasing prototypes of our designs.It was a far cry from the normal fetching of swatches and giving photoshoots, but after a month under Madame Bijou's supervisorship she'd dubbed us 'diamonds in the rough.' Us being the thirteen interns lucky enough to be employed into 'La Présent.'And after another taxing fortnight she'd declared us 'fit to carry on the legacy.'So here I was, rapidly shedding off braincells in an aim to come up with the perfect fashion line. Possible fashion styles clamoured around in my head; grunge? Preppy? Bohemian? Chic? Goth? Sexy? Punk? O
I selected my clothes carefully, taking care to avoid heels due to the nerve damage I had on my ankles when I was little: an injury that could leave me prone to random gout episodes. I fished out a simple mint green wrap dress and paired it with a thin emerald green belt and a pair of tan sandals. After scanning my choice of clothes and nodding at them in approval, I went into the shower; letting the hot water do some magic to my nerves which were going haywire by the second...The first person I saw upon departing the bathroom had me stopping dead in my tracks.Mother.My hands tightened on the soft white towel I was wrapped in.Her stance was stiff and upright, her spine-straight posture giving her a severe air. Mother's bleach blond hair was fastened in a chignon at her nape, the suave cut of the white shift dress she was swaddled in reinforcing the Ice-queen moniker she'd been dubbed generally.Af
"You're getting engaged tomorrow," father said, levelling me with a probing stare, "and into one of the most powerful families in the Syndicate."My face remained blank."Castello is a good man."My face... didn't remain blank.That sentence rattled my nerves, stringing them tightly with its obnoxiousness until I felt like I would erupt. I'd like to know what his definition of 'good' comprised of. And I had a feeling it wasn't that 'good', either."If I had my way you wouldn't be getting engaged tomorrow, Emiliano," father said quietly, stopping his assault on the piece of paper.The anger and irritation pumping through me sloshed to a halt, receding backwards at an unholy speed and being replaced by hope. Sweet, fragile hope."You'd be getting married," he concluded.A distant crashing sound filled my ears from a faraway space. My budding hope shattering to pieces. A familiar curdle pushed its way into the back of my throat and
My ears perked up at the sound of someone opening my door slowly."Psst!" Luna.I threw off the sheets shielding my party dress, and rolled over to the other end of the bed quietly, landing on my feet just as quiet.The night was pitch black and relatively quiet. Perfect for sneaking out.Luna made her way towards me, her heels dangling from her fingers.She whistled lowly. "I said hot, not boxer-dropping. . .or tightening."I snorted, smoothening my hand down the sheath dress I'd altered so that scarce faux feathers lined the bust, and dipped: following the dangerously low neckline. 'You can never be overdressed or underdressed wearing a little black dress--K. L.' I took in Luna. "You don't look so bad yourself."Luna twirled, showcasing a tube top and jean shorts that barely cleared her ass. When she came to a stop, she said urgently, "Yeah, now come on. Jerry's been waiting his ass out down the drive."I didn't bot