When Anastasia and Liam Kingsley were taken, they were severely injured but not dead. The French mafia kept them in containment, in a steel room. They were tortured, starved, beat, raped, whipped.
They made a plan.
It took years.
It was fucking w...
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Anastasia Kingsley POV
It was 12pm and me and Adrian decided it was best that I went back to the Kingsley's mansion and went to talk to my family.
I walked in, my doc martens hitting the stone pathway as the December New York wind hit my face repeatedly.
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I got to the door and knocked, waiting until Louis came and opened the door for me. He looked like he was crying, he was 6'0 now so we were almost leveled with the help of my shoes.
Still can't believe he's 16.
His black hair was messed up, like he ran his fingers through it again and again. I hugged him, feeling bad that one of his favorite people in the world had died and then brought back to life.
He was too young. He is too young.
He shouldn't have gone through the shit that he did.
After two minutes of hugging, we went inside, my grandma and some of my cousins were in the living room along with Uncle Chris and Aunt Candace.
I was lunged at by men known as my cousins, hugging the life out of me, "If you guys hug me any tighter, I might actually die."
They got up, all of them greeting me at once. We talked for a while as everyone else talked to Liam or the two little boys that were running around the house.
Whenever I saw them, I looked at Liam who was already looking at me. He just shook his head, silently meaning that it wasn't my fault that those kids were dead.
But i shot the fucking gun.
I just looked away, answering the next question. Then I came to the realization that one of my uncles, one of my aunts and my grandpa was missing.
