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READ- Story is based off of the books Omertà and Borgota by @katrocks247. IF YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO TAKE THE NAME 'SCARLET' or 'SAMANTHA' OUT AT ANY POINT I WILL!! Full credits to the author for her character!!
This novel begins at around chapter eighteen of the book. Right after Fico and Sam return from the hospital.
It's not necessary to read 'Borgota' to understand this but I do think It'd be more enjoyable. Plus it's an amazing read, I recommend. Okay, I'll stop talking. Enjoy :)




My heart raced as I sprinted through the woods, where the once-refreshing scent of trees now mingled with the stench of sweat. The relentless barking intensified, and my legs ached with anxiety.

Running away from a pair rabid dogs wasn't exactly the plan I had in mind after returning from my parents grave.

I panted, my lungs screaming for air as I weaved between tress, dodging bushes and scraping my limbs across bark. In the distance I spotted a house—a compound more like. If I could breathe I'd be smiling.

Safety.

Luxury cars lined the street it sat on, looking like they cost more money than my mama ever had in her entire life. I leaped, taking the opportunity to jump on top of one, cracking the windshields with all the mighty eighty pounds in my body.

"Fuck off!"

I squealed, the dogs snarled. Their slobber coating the ground beneath them. Their barks were loud enough to reverberate through my soul.
I kicked, whimpering when one of them took ahold of my shoe and gnawed through it like rats in a trash can.

"Fuck off, fuck off. Help me!"

I screamed. And then the dogs were dead. Their heads snapped to the side. Eyes, once wicked, now fogged. Blood slowly trickling from their necks.

My ears rang from the loud bang that echoed throughout the forest.  Fuck. My breath left me once more. I whipped my head around, spotting an imposing man who held a gun on a direct level with my head.

Double fuck.

My legs worked on instinct, jumping down from the car and crouching behind it. The man's chuckle was icy and booming, I shuddered with fear.

"Come on out, kid." His accent was thick and twanging but, I could quite place it.  "Who sent you?"

He stood tall over me, his skin olive and glistening in the sunlight.

My hands shook violently as I lifted them up. He rolled his eyes, clicked his tongue and fired a bullet right next to my knee.

"Start talking."

"I am Alexander please! I mean no harm! M-my parents b-burial in cemetery there!" I cursed myself for the use of poor english in my head but, what the hell was I supposed to do? I wasn't from New York.
My deadbeat-lowdown aunt dropped me off here with a backpack, flew back to Germany and called it a day.

"Y-Your parents b-buried in c-cemetery?" The man mocked, clutching at the lapels of his suit. My eyes fell to his legs, rippling with muscle but spread slightly apart.

"Y-You w-will be t-too." He cackled, raised the weapon and I lunged, kicking that fucker right in the nuts.

He crumpled like a tissue on a rainy day, falling to the earth in one mean thump. I clutched the gun in my own two hands, it's heavy weight taking me off guard. "Yeah, that's what you get. Iss Shif asshole." Eat shit.

"No way you just got curb-stomped by a six year old." 

A soft, melodic voice filtered into my ears. And if I wasn't so tired of people sneaking up on me I would've been in awe at just how beautiful she was. Golden hair that slipped just past her shoulders, a lean figure that left much to the imagination and stunning blue eyes that reminded me far too much of my own.

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