Secrets of the Solomons

6. Fiona:

*The day of the attempted murder. 27th June, 2023*

This house was more than just a beautiful palace. It was a prison. A prison my father chose for me to despair in. It all made sense why he suddenly chose to move into a new house, even a few weeks after we moved into one. It was his way to start his new beginnings. His way to start his plan for my demise. If Mom truly knew what he was thinking right now, I doubt she would divorce him.

I had enough of this family. I feel tortured and suffocated, and most of all, I feel like my liberty has been taken away. Sure, not all of my family members were bad; that includes my mom, my baby cousins, and some of my female cousins. Our family, despite being hundreds of years old, is small in number. And right now, only three to four of them are plotting my demise. I never thought I would be in this position, feeling betrayed by those closest to me. It's a harsh reality to face, but I know I need to find a way out of this toxic situation before it's too late.

There are only two ways this ends. The assassination attempts that Dad orchestrated won't stop. There will be more. The first way this will end is if I wipe all of the ones against me out. The other way this ends is if they kill me first.

I must admit. I've been too soft. It's time I showed them that I am not a puppet who is being controlled. The easiest way to wipe them all out would be to turn them against each other and make them think I have no way of winning against them. There's only one way they would think that. That is, if I were in isolation. Somewhere, I couldn't do anything. Prison. This is my chance to be at the top.

When my grandfather chose me as his successor, I thought he was taking my freedom away. Until now, I didn't know that this was instead a blessing in disguise. It was an opportunity to wipe out all those that hurt me, physically or mentally. It didn't matter if I was a monster who indirectly committed mass murder. As I said, murder isn't nice unless you have a solid reason. I already have evidence against all of them. If one of them managed to survive the storm that was about to come, then they would be in for a hell of a lot more. I will make sure of it. I will ensure that justice is served and that those who have wronged me will pay for their actions.

Revenge may not always be the answer, but in this case, it is necessary for my peace of mind.

Now I just had to commit murder first. If I pleaded guilty, with my age, I would at least get 10 years of prison time. And as for my first victim, I already have someone in mind.

I got up and opened my secret closet. I traced my fingers across the knives and the guns. A dagger caught my eye. It was certainly beautifully designed. I picked it up, feeling the weight in my hand, and knew it was the perfect weapon for what needed to be done. With a sense of determination, I set out to carry out my plan for revenge, knowing that justice would soon be served.

It was nighttime. Around midnight. I made my way to my father's office. The house was so big, it would be hard to hear a scream unless you were near. I didn't bother knocking on his door. He didn't deserve my respect anymore. I walked in, my eyes on his and my dagger in my pocket.

"What do you want? Your mother said to go to your room, didn't she?" He said this as he rubbed his temples.

"Oh, she did. And you know, I suddenly had a plan in mind. A plan for the future I want." My voice carried amusement.

"Have you gone crazy once and for all?"

I shook my head, a smirk playing on my lips. "No, father. Just finally realizing what I deserve." With that, I approached him fast, and I pulled out the dagger from my pocket, the glint of steel reflecting in his widened eyes. I didn't slit his throat. He deserved a painful death.

I lunged forward and tackled him to the ground when he tried to get up and run. The moonlight filled the room. His screams were muffled as I plunged the dagger into his chest over and over again. The weight of years of abuse lifted off my shoulders with each stab, until finally, there was silence. The plan for my future was now clear: a life free from his tyranny. I counted each stab. I stabbed him 18 times. And he was still alive. I sat beside him. I was ready to see life drain from his eyes.

Before he could die, my eldest brother walked in, shocked at the scene before him. I smiled. He called the police, and I was arrested for attempted murder. My plan was going as I wanted. I still felt devastated by the fact that my father would live. But it's all going as planned. He would die in the fight for the successor's seat.

After all this is over, I will be remembered for the rest of history.