My Fiction Fix #01

Writing Idea #28: Stitches

BLURB:

Scarlett Celestial is a business woman by right, if business involved the movement of weaponry freshly stolen from military bases and drugs from rather illegal trafficking the I can quite easily infiltrate. Until finding certain files after the death of my parents shattered it all. They thought it was the end. One month ago, a funeral that changed my thoughts on the angles of this business. I ransacked old files, the kind where only hard copy was visible, any digital copy was destroyed at the disappearances of three brothers, while I believed something went wrong as a seven year old thinking I made up three baby boys.

Memory can be manipulated, can filter and dissolve until completely unrecognisable.

But hard copy files of birth certificates...now that's a gold mine of truth.

In order to find them on another mafia's territory, the only thing I could do was go undercover. As a high school student in an academy where students from across the world would kill to attend, some even literally. Two of them in an elite of four, and the head leader is the brother of my American enemy. And worse thing is...I couldn't avoid meeting him if I tried.

CHAPTER 1

I stare up at him as I pack my next bag in, "You have the controls until I return. I want a full report every two weeks I'm gone, Cameron." The man I'm putting in charge, his curly blonde strands are tied atop his head, blue eyes grinning in hidden victory, he doesn't say anything, he merely nods. I didn't want to do this, but he had the board praising him as a substitute leader for when I travelled, this isn't the first time he's taken lead for the European division here.

He opens my door for me, "Each district will run smoothly. You have my word, you better catch your flight for this secretive mission you have planning." His blue eyes study mine, still holding the door, I slide my glasses on, pulling my trench coat over my shoulders.

"The reports, every two weeks, miss one and I'll be here before you know it." I warn him, you couldn't trust anyone in this line of business. I speed off straight into the cold, snow under the wheels of my McLaren. I move to auto, changing the direction, instead of going straight to the airport, I took to a destination.

I find my most trusted operative standing by my jet black private jet, pulling up into the hanger, I park as he inserts the exterior brakes on the vehicle, "Jameson, long time no see." I tell him, stepping out of the car. He nods down to me stoically, six foot three and muscular enough to be a president's main bodyguard, while he was mine. His pale brown hair and dark brown eyes move to the detection systems, checking the car protectively while I gesture to my pilot to move to the runway. I take a slow seat into my pale grey couch seat in front of a glass of wine, my laptop, phone and mind elsewhere, the files on my lap too.

I sigh and turn to my laptop, creating the file of Catherine Langston, a seventeen year old majoring in computer and business, having just been accepted in the the high school of New York. Daughter to Robert and Selene Langston, both being owners of a law firm in Vancouver, reason being why I could afford such an apparently prestigious. I was creating a file I needed in order to get in, and gain acceptance into the academy without needing the principal's recommendation or even their recognition on the matter. I'm merely a random number on a page.

The youngest took after the name of Bennett Constance. A six foot three blonde-haired, blue eyed man of intelligence. Eighteen years old and he was on decathlon teams while Lyra Constance spread just how proud she was of the boys she claims are her son's. Evan Constance, Lyra's husband, was second in command to the head elite leaders brother, a face I have never seen, but his name...Holden Corvine, a twenty-eight years old leader of the American mafia. It was the only way anyone could slide under the radar and take all three...through a gang raid in my own home all those ago.