❝𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?❞
❝𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭.❞
. . • ☆ . ° .• -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-°:. *₊ ° .
She never wanted to associate further with the family business than she had in the past but the deathly threats in Beacon Hills asked for an ally. One that knew t...
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0. PROLOGUE
𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 fingers and black painted nails stroke over the cold metal in her right hand. With arched eyebrows she inspected the loaded magazine of the Glock 19, counting the left over 9x19mm bullets. Her standard magazines held fifteen rounds, eight were still inside, waiting to be fired. Pushing the ammunition back, she put the gun into the holster around her right thigh.
Brushing the blonde strands out of her sight, her eyes drifted over the empty rooftop. When she moved to Brooklyn, the little training session happened to be a comforting situation for her but with the the last call she received, the ten text messages she never read, Amber knew she needed more practise. It wasn't a daily habit anymore to hold a gun tightly in her palm, the Argent tried to stay away from the weapon industry for a long time.
But she couldn't avoid the last call. Her father has called her an unknown amount of times, he tried to reach out for his oldest daughter almost every day since fourteen days. Two hours ago, her phone didn't stop ringing, three attempts in five minutes and Amber knew, she wouldn't be able to dodge the conversation with him longer - he wouldn't give up, he was way too determined.
Crouched on the edge of the building, her blue orbs drifted over the city lights. Downtown was busy from sunrise to sunset, the loud sounds from underneath sounded like whispered words. She would leave Brooklyn behind like she did with Beacon Hills about two years ago. A decision, she made for herself, to stand on her own feet and figure out where her path would lead.
Amber couldn't remember the last time she heard her father's voice, the rough edge in his words when they talked about the weapon industry. It was all he told her, not a question about her well-being or what she decided to do with her life. The disappointment filled her body, the desire to prove them that she was as good as Allison but over the years, she realised she was good enough herself - being herself.
Learning more about the guns her father gifted her, she teached herself the ways of shooting. Training through the hours at night, forgetting the need to sleep to hit one of the targets perfect. But this one phone call happened to be different, for once Christopher didn't sound like he wanted to blame her for the departure.
" I need you back in Beacon Hills, Amber. "
Words that she wanted to hear for a long time and two years had to pass until he reached out to ask for assistance. Standing up from her kneeling position when she felt the first raindrops collide with the stones around her, Amber dusted off her black attire. The Glock19 secured tightly around her thigh, another holster with two smaller knives decorated the right one.
The Argent was prepared to return home for months, upgrading her training session with the improvement of her close combat skills. This moment felt right, the pressure of being the perfect heritage for the family business washed away with the hours she spent in Brooklyn. With a last glimpse at the glowing and busy city, an wide, incandescent smile on her lips, Amber turned her back towards Brooklyn's night life.
