The mind of protagonist Zea, a woman consumed by a burning desire for revenge against the President of the United States. The reason? Zea's father was executed on orders from the President after he was found guilty of attempting to assassinate him and killing the president's daughter, Mia. Fueled by anger and a deep sense of injustice, Zea spends 15 years meticulously planning her revenge, studying every detail of the President's security and devising a plan to kill him. But as Zea gets closer to her target, she begins to question whether her actions will actually bring her the closure she seeks or simply perpetuate a cycle of violence.
View MoreAron's Point of View.Corridors seem to buzz with activity as constantly as I wander through the White House; there is no waste of time, and everything must be done with a sense of commitment. Every step somehow resonant with the floors, and while the orderliness is palpable, I know the storm rages inside of me, or maybe it has always been there since I was chosen to become the chief of staff of the President but also a man straddling between responsibilities and scepticism. It is early morning, and the sun streams through the windows in the West Wing; the luxury of the Oval Office envelopes me as I enter. Facing away from the President, the First Lady scowls at him as he leans at the Resolute Desk, which also looks anxious and tired. “Aron, come in,” the President says, waving me to sit on the chair opposite her. His tone is instead composed, but I can feel the growing tension. "What do we have?" I sit across from him, and my thoughts are torn in different directions. I pause fo
The climate in the room rises as hours count down to a critical moment of our assignment. Moving around the ill-organized table covered in maps and papers, the team gathers, standing in the midst of the preparations. Jake is looking straight at me, and although it is only for a few seconds, I can discern a shyness that does not often show itself. “How do you even manage it, Zea?” Jake’s voice is soft, his face intense. This is the question that was raised by the character: ’’Can I have fife being a mother and a killer at once?’’ I keep the mask of tolerance and resolve, and looking at him, I feel drained but decisively steady. “It’s give and take, really,” I say calmly. However, my voice has a tinge of sadness. There is a constant oscillation between duty and love; every decision is a burden, and every choice is a revolution that echoes throughout one’s life. Jake nods again, they stare at each other for a moment as if to finally register what has been said. ‘This is the story o
The morning sun shone warmly through the windows, painting the room with a gentle golden hue. Aron sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee as he engaged in lighthearted banter with our child. The sounds of laughter and the clinking of utensils filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop to the start of the day."Come on, kiddo, finish your breakfast," Aron encouraged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "We don't want to be late for school."Our child giggled, taking another bite of cereal before setting the spoon down with a satisfied sigh. "Done!"Aron grinned, ruffling our child's hair affectionately. "Good job. Now, let's grab your backpack and get going."As they prepared to leave, I stepped into the kitchen, a soft smile gracing my lips. Aron's presence had always brought a sense of stability to our lives, a steady anchor amidst the chaos surrounding us."Morning, you two," I greeted, my voice infused with warmth."Morning, Mom!" our child said, excitement dancing in their eye
Sitting at the kitchen table, I absentmindedly traced the grain of the wood with my fingertips, my gaze fixed on Aron. He was deep in conversation with our child, guiding him through math problems. His smile seemed strained, his eyes distant – a telltale sign that something was awry. A gnawing unease settled in my chest, refusing to be ignored."Is everything okay, Aron?" The question slipped out, tinged with concern that I couldn't quite conceal. His gaze met mine, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he masked it with a reassuring smile."Yeah, just a long day at work. Nothing to worry about," he replied, his tone steady but his eyes betraying a hint of hesitation.I nodded, trying to quell the unease that had taken root within me. It could be exhaustion, stress, or any number of reasons. But a voice inside me insisted that I delve deeper.I excused myself from the table, feigning the need to check on the simmering pot on the stove. As I stood before the furnace, my heart
As I drove aimlessly through the winding roads, lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, I never expected to find myself here. It was a place that held so much meaning, yet belonged to a different time, a different version of my life. The house, once familiar and comforting, now stood in the hands of strangers.Curiosity compelled me to enter the yard, drawn by an invisible force that guided my steps. A pang of uncertainty washed over me as I approached the front door. How would these new occupants react to a stranger intruding upon their lives? But something urged me to continue, to confront the memories that lingered within those walls.I entered cautiously, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight—a loving family, with the elderly grandparents surrounded by their joyful grandchildren. Their presence in this place I once called home was a bittersweet reminder of the passage of time.Summoning my courage, I approached the family, hoping they would allow me a moment to reconnect with th
A wave of apprehension washed over me as I stood outside the grand doors of the president's office. My heart pounded in my chest, its rhythm mirroring the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of inner turmoil, torn between my love for Zea and the weight of my duty to the nation.Every step I took towards that meeting room felt like a step further into the unknown. The image of Zea's face, filled with warmth and tenderness, flashed before my eyes, reminding me of the love we shared. But at this moment, I knew I had to put that love aside. I had to set it on the shelf, like a cherished possession, as I confronted the grim reality that awaited me inside those walls.The truth that Lynn has uncovered has shattered the illusion of the woman I thought I knew. Love must take a backseat now, for the stakes are too high. Lives hang in the balance, and I must do what is right, regardless of personal sacrifice.The president's request for this meeting echoe
As I sat in the dimly lit room, still reeling from Lynn's shocking revelations, a rush of conflicting emotions coursed through my veins. Zea, the woman I had come to love and trust, was now at the centre of a dark and dangerous secret. Lynn's words echoed in my mind, urging me to take action, to confront the unthinkable truth that Zea may be part of a group planning to assassinate the president.I stared into Lynn's eyes, searching for any sign of uncertainty or doubt, but her gaze remained stubborn and determined. Memories of moments shared with Zea flooded my mind – her warm smile, gentle touch, and laughter. It felt like a cruel twist of fate to discover that the person I had grown so close to might harbour a sinister secret.Conflicting thoughts tugged at my conscience. Should I question the authenticity of the evidence? Should I dismiss Lynn's findings and cling to the image of Zea I held in my heart? The struggle was relentless, tearing at the fabric of my trust and loyalty.She
I sat alone in the dimly lit room, surrounded by memories that refused to fade. The weight of the past bore down on me, dragging me into the depths of haunting memory. I closed my eyes, allowing the vivid recollection to envelop me. Growing up without parents had shaped my existence, a constant void that echoed through my soul. The void, carved by the tragic loss of my mother and father, consumed me like a relentless flame. They were both secret service agents, dedicated to protecting the truth and upholding justice. But their pursuit of the truth had cost them their lives. The day they died repeated each detail etched into my memory cruelly. I was a mere child, frozen in fear as my parents' lives were extinguished. A chilling wind blew through the deserted alley, carrying the scent of death and betrayal. My heart ached as I recalled the brutality inflicted upon them. The deputy president's henchmen had descended upon us, mercilessly snuffing out their lives. The harrowing image of
"I want to be a part of it, to help you bring about the change we've always dreamed of."As my mother and I sat in the bustling café, the weight of our shared purpose settled, intertwining our destinies in a web of determination and resilience. The revelation of her support brought relief, knowing I no longer had to bear the weight of my plans alone. The bond between us, already strong, grew even more vital as we wove our ideas together, expanding the possibilities of our audacious endeavour.Hours passed as we delved into the intricacies of the plan, exploring every angle and anticipating the challenges ahead. My mother's wisdom and experience became invaluable, providing a perspective I had previously lacked. Her insights breathed new life into our strategy, injecting it with a depth and nuance that only a seasoned mind could offer.Together, we mapped out the sequence of events, refining our approach and mitigating potential risks. Our conversations crackled with energy and purpose
In the dimly lit office, Zea sat alone, her fingers delicately tracing the photograph of her father. Her mind was consumed with thoughts, her thoughts filled with vengeance. Suddenly, her phone pierced the silence, interrupting her contemplation. "Hello," she answered, her voice tense. "It's me," a voice on the other end replied. "Is the plan still on track?" Zea asked, her tone filled with determination. "Of course," came the confident response. "We've invested 15 years into this. We won't back down now." Zea's voice grew even colder. "We can't afford any slip-ups. We need to keep a low profile, avoid raising any suspicions." "Don't worry," the voice reassured her. "Everything is under control. My mother and uncle have assembled a formidable team. They are the best in the business." "Good," Zea responded sharply. "And what about the Chief of Staff? Does he still believe in our cause?" Zea chuckled, a sinister edge to her voice. "Oh, he's still infatuated with me. He has no ide
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