The twisted series 2nd generation ff. ( also contains characters from the Sins series)
*BOOK-1* (Can be read as a standalone)
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"Some loves are quiet-not because they're uncertain, but because they're waiting for the right moment...
Vote and comment plssssand pls read the author's note at the end.
!!!Imp info is there!!! ---------
I woke up in a dimly lit room. My head throbbed like it had gone twelve rounds with a heavyweight boxer, my limbs felt as if they had been dipped in concrete, and every inch of me screamed in protest. The chair I was in wasn't just a chair—it was the very definition of every villain's kidnapping fantasy. The ones where the heroine is helpless, crying, waiting for rescue... Except, newsflash, that's not me. I don't do helpless. I don't do waiting. I am Nia Harper, and I'm armed and fully capable of obliterating anyone who underestimates me.
A sudden voice cut through the fog of pain and grogginess.
"WELCOME LOVE!"
I nearly flew out of the chair. Who the hell yells like that in the dead of—oh, right, villains do. But seriously, a dramatic entrance is not appreciated when you've just woken up.
The figure loomed in the dark. Male. Bastard energy. But why did it feel vaguely... familiar? My brain was sluggish, trying to piece together the fragments of memory from the hit, the abduction, the sheer audacity of it all.
"Looks like you don't remember me anymore, dear... After being away for such a short time, you actually forgot about me? I am hurt, darling," the voice purred, moving closer.
And then the light fell on him.
My blood ran cold. The one person in this universe capable of terrifying me stood there. Smirk in place, eyes glinting with malice—and shockingly, a past twisted attraction I could never quite unsee. But no. Not now. Not today.
Right, he looks a lot like Niko.
Slap.
The sudden sting on my cheek woke every last molecule of rage in me. Who did he think he was? Anyone else and I might have cowered. Anyone else and I might have flinched. But not him. Not Henry. Not when he dared to touch me.
"You realize how much of a loser you are, right?" I snarled, the words tasting like fire on my tongue.
His grip on my face tightened.
"You do not speak to me in that tone," he hissed.
"Bastard! Do not touch my face!" I snapped, glaring at the ugly glint in his eyes.
He smirked, a deep, unsettling sound escaping his throat. Perfect distraction. Perfect opportunity.
Stealthily, I worked my blade out from its hidden spot in my sleeve, the one I never leave home without. My right hand was tied, but not for long. A few precise cuts and the ropes started to give way. Who even uses ropes anymore? Cufflinks, man. That's what people use.
"You've become such a bitch in such a short while," he muttered, loosening his grip, not knowing how close he was to underestimating me.
One more snip. Freedom.
My legs? Same story. Rope gone. A grin spread across my face.
Bro is a noob. Hah!
Now, the fun part. Showing him that messing with me—the daughter of Christian Harper—is a fatal mistake.
"And I am back, baby, with your new toy," he announced, swaggering back in.
This time, I played the damsel—feigning helplessness with the ropes lazily draped over my hands. He was armed with a whip and a gun. Predictable.
As soon as he leaned in, I struck. Blade flashing. Deep cut across his arm. The bastard fell back, startled, giving me just enough space to strike again, this time slicing his throat with precision.
He threw me off. A short, shrill scream escaped his lips. Girlier than me? I rolled my eyes. No time for theatrics. I had to move.
I bolted. Up the stairs, towards the main gate—locked. Figures. Of course it was locked.
I spun, and there he was. Creepy Henry, hands on his throat, evil smirk plastered across his face.
"You think I'm that dumb?" he taunted, strolling toward me.
"Of course. Yeah," I shot back, sarcasm dripping, venom-laced, untouchable.
He dangled a key.
"Sweetheart, do you want this?"
Ugh. That nickname. Coming from him, it was filth incarnate.
"Do not call me that!" I snapped, laced with fury.
"Why, sweetheart?" He dragged the word, malicious and deliberate, like nails on a chalkboard.
"Do. Not. Cross. Your. Limits. MF," I growled, charging at him.
Caught off guard, he faltered. Blade in my hand, key and gun snatched from him. Victory—temporary.
Before I could fully stand, he slammed my hand down and head-butted me. Hard. Stars exploded behind my eyes.
"FUCK!" I hissed, crawling, refusing to give up.
He pounced on me, hands around my neck, choking. Pain screamed through me. Every survival instinct on red alert. He wasn't going down easily, not after bleeding like a fool.
Then he brandished the blade. My throat. My pulse raced like a drumline.
"I thought I'd punish you... make you mine again. But since you insist on returning to that Niko bastard, I have no choice. No one gets you when I can't," he growled, laughing maniacally.
My vision blurred. Every second felt like eternity. Pressure, pain, fear—all swirling into a singular, horrifying moment.
And then—metal clinking, sharp, precise, followed by a gunshot.
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(A/N: Guess what guys?? I was sneaky enough! Yayayay!! Soooo here's the new chapter and hope y'all liked it. Please leave a vote and a comment before scrolling away. And also Ik there wasn't much of a suspense. Bc I can never write a weak woman and a serious environment. Sooo I feel like there was a lot of unseriousness in this chapter. But also Nia was proving to be very brave and kinda witted like her dad?? I feel like more like her mom?? I think I could match a bit of their personalities... Well hope y'all love it!! And leave a comment on what you think.
And also what do you guys think? If I make a mxm book on the 2nd gen? Like with two of their sons? Idk which one yet... But only if y'all want.
