When a drunken night out leads to Rose Delacour meeting the mysterious American Mafia Boss, Clecentine Huxley, she can't help but give in to her beauty and charms.
Young and carefree Rose Delacour didn't expect her night out at the bar to result in...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Hands streaked with blood, vision blinded by both my tears and sweat I shakily walked away from the room leaving the soaking-red corpse for the police to find.
My footsteps echoed in the silent corridor as I took a turn and walked into the restroom.
I let my hands rest on the edge of the sink before I looked at my hands. Red. Then I looked up into the mirror to glance at my face. Streaked with red.
Taking in a shaky breath I reminded myself that it was necessary. It had to be done so that he would never repeat it.
Washing my hands and face thoroughly I wiped them dry before putting on my best poker face and walking towards the stairs.
One flight of stairs later I came face to face with the lady at the reception desk whose eyes were drowsy as a result of her late-night shift.
Not giving two shits about the weird look she was giving me I walked out of the hotel. She probably wondered why I came barging into the hotel with men hot on my heels threatening her to give me the room number of 'Mr Huxley.''
Well, she didn't have to worry about any 'Mr Huxley' now, because he was dead.
Good riddance.
I sat inside the car adjusting my beige coat before the car took off. I glanced at the mirror with a determined look.
These men now have a new leader.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Grunts of effort and frustration could be heard across the entire training room as I dodged another attack from my tenth competitor.
He was going to lose too. Just like the previous nine men with at least one broken bone who had questioned my authority as their leader and had dared to challenge me.
Focus, I told myself.
I had to prove myself. They needed to be shown that I wasn't some 'Daddy's princess' who acquired his property with a flutter of her eyelashes.
No, I had fought hard for it all. Proving myself all these years, only to be taken as a joke. But not anymore.
For the first time in my twenty-seven years, I had finally gotten a chance without my whore of a father acting as an interruption.
