Heartless || •OG• ✔️

Prologue

Rated M for mature themes, violence, mental disorders such as PTSD and depression, major character death, drug and alcohol use, and more. Recommended for a 16+ audience only. Thanks for reading, make sure to follow, vote, and add to your library for more!

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The Underworld was gorgeous to Madam Amara.

She sat on the throne of the criminal world, overseeing districts as far as Tokyo and as close as Bromley. As she sipped her green tea, the warmth flooded onto her taste buds, erupting her world in a sea of light.

The balcony was atop a hill, staring down at the borough of Bromley below. There were trees sprouting up from the soil, but no leaves were on them due to the harsh temperature. It brushed against Madam's skin. The wrinkles there didn't take kindly to the rush of wind that hit her. It slapped her over and over again, and it got to the point where she got off her chair.

It was a round, metal chair with an oval-shaped seat. Little rubies were painted on the surface. As pretty as it was, it made her back ache. She gave it a curse before she placed her tea on the table in front of her. It was just as tiny as the chair, only meant for tea and a snack. It was her private balcony, after all. Other than business colleagues, she was the individual who came up there the most.

Her hands pressed themselves against the railings circling the exterior of her castle. In the streets, she knew there were underlings fighting for a chance to get noticed by Madam Amara. By the High Council as a whole.

Her peace was interrupted by the balcony door sliding open. She didn't bother turning. "Is there a reason you're interrupting a gorgeous day like this?" she asked.

"Madam," the voice of Eladio said. His tone was flat. Serious. That was what had her swiveling her head to stare at the man who was much taller and wider than her. She pulled on her violet sari, patting down any kinks it may have had. When surrounded by those physically stronger than her, she always made sure to keep herself tidy. It gave a false sense of superiority, not that anyone would dare oppose her anyway.

Eladio handed her a paper. A kill order. Who it was written by was omitted, which meant Madam couldn't locate them. However, the ink remained clear. It showed the details of the killing, and most importantly, it showed that the kill order was supposed to be buried. Hidden from the eyes of the High Council.

Whoever wrote this order was hiding from the Council. Hiding from punishment. Hiding from their rulers. Madam brought the page closer and saw the face of the one who was killed, and her jaw dropped. There were a dozen Council members with Madam spearheading them, and the kill order took out one of them.

"Tyrone," Madam said, seeing his familiar sharp face plastered on the paper. "For the first time in over a decade someone was stupid enough to come after the High Council?"

"We're searching for the culprit, but they hid their tracks well. Can't even find the assassin who carried it out let alone the one who wrote the order."

"It had to come from someone higher up, no one would risk death unless there was a cause, and it couldn't just be because they hate the High Council. I fucking hate the High Council, but I rule it." Madam pressed her back against the railing and sighed when it cracked. The popping sound made her ear twitch, her left eye going with it. It didn't help that it smelled of cut grass, a scent she despised.

"Say the word and I'll go replace Tyrone. We need to put another member on the Council before they start taking shots at other Council members. This could be a war." Madam held back tears for her fallen friend, nodding against her hand and biting on her nails.

"Our candidate pool is the size of an understaffed rugby team. We have to stop this before it begins, we can't keep replacing Council members. If this is a war, you better end it quickly, do you understand me?"

"Yes Madam," he said, bowing his head. His hair had way too much gel in it, and she wished she could swat it away. "Where would you like me to go?"

Madam turned her attention back to the scenery below. The stone walls making up her castle extended down to the surface, digging itself into the terrain until dirt kicked up and scattered on the land. There were workers in the garden. She spotted the various flowers from her elevated position. Her favorite was the lily-of-the-valley, and she had countless pots of them inside her garden. There were white and regular roses there as well for when she wished to treat herself to a sensual night. Those times were increasing in rarity the more she increased in age.

Eladio stayed behind her with his hands folded in front of him, his eyes down. She couldn't bear to gaze at the receding head of gel he was donning. So, she waved her hand as if that would shoo him away. At the same time, she opened her mouth to speak.

"New York City. Jericho Novak is next in line. If not him, then Charlotte Evermore."

"Madam, they're rivals. What if they kill each other for the role?" he asked, then, he lowered his voice. "What if neither of them want it? Who then?" She pondered it. New York was where her best clients were. It made sense to keep him in the area to recruit. She gained the courage to meet his stare, her running her mind through a list of names until she found one. The best fighter in the Underworld.

"Seong Jimin."

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