Prologue

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Aurora Whitley-Thorne

I was nine years old when I finally perceived that my life wasn't normal. Any other normal nine year old attended public school and interacted with other nine year olds and did activities that were considered normal.

I, on the other hand, lived a completely diverse life compared to the average child. Reasons being; one, I never, ever, set foot in any sort of school; two, I was never allowed to intermingle with anyone out with the family or staff simply because it was a safety hazard; three, I relocated continuously, so I never stayed in the same home for more than six months; and four, I was constantly surrounded by my father's employees in possession of lethal weapons.

I very rarely saw my father as a child as he was always too inclined with his work to interact with his only daughter and wife. And for some abnormal reason, this never saddened me, the main reason being because the only fatherly figure I had growing up was never there, so I never knew what a relationship with a father complied of. I had never had the foundation of a relationship with my father until I was sixteen.

That was the first year he acknowledged me on my birthday. It was also the year my mother was murdered in our own home.

It was odd becoming accustomed to having a proper relationship with my father as I was so used to spending my every minute with my mother and not seeing him for months on end. The first time he ever showed me any affection was at my mother's funeral and incidentally, it was the first time he been in my presence in months. He wasn't there to comfort me days before when I found her deceased corpse in the kitchen. Though, he stood by my side as men dressed in black suits lowered my mother's casket into the rich South-London earth, his arm wrapped around me, rubbing up and down my bicep in hope of comforting me in some way.

After my mother's death, I was permanently tended to by members of staff that worked for my father. A bodyguard was allocated to be by my side 24/7. His name was Jim and he looked like one of those men on the Bond films who turned out to be the villain. But Jim was pleasant and ever since I was sixteen, kept me safe. Seeing as my mother was no longer there to fulfil the role, Jim continued to educate me not only on general knowledge for subjects like maths and history, but also about my life.

He explained why my mother's death occurred and why I moved house (and city) frequently and why my father was never around and why the constant baby-sitting was necessary.

I was given self-defence lessons and took up sports that would improve my physical ability and stamina. My father consumed the ultimate power and possessions that many desired to retain. But nothing compared to the two things that, surprisingly, were of real value to him: my mother and I.

Jason Whitley-Thorne was the notorious leader of the London Mafia and as long as he was breathing, there were people literally willing to kill to be in the position, meaning they would go to extremes to get what they wanted. And some of those extremes had already been taken as a course of action, my mother being the target. This caused uproar in him.

My father undoubtedly loved my mother -even though there was never one time where I first hand witnessed affection between the two. So it was obvious that when he had one love snatched away from him ever so suddenly, that he would do everything in his power to protect the other.

At the age of sixteen, I realised that the world I assumed I lived in, where everything seemed normal – where my father provided for his non-labouring family – was a lie. I actually lived in a world that involved more anarchy and annihilation than imaginable.

I learned that people died on a daily basis merely over petty arguments that broke out between the gangs that roamed the streets of London. Most quarrels were over money and weren't so serious, but when one gang challenged the mafia for power, it was like a suicide mission in itself.

On my eighteenth birthday, my father took me out for dinner, obviously accompanied by our security. It was tight, but not tight enough. We were targeted that evening and as a result, four members of our security died. Jim was one of them.

As soon as we got home that evening, I cried. I didn't witness any of the commotion as I was ushered outside before the gun shots were fired, but I knew that the man who had been my protector for two years had been brutally murdered and it was because he took a bullet for me. Literally.

My father was furious that he was now four men down, but it didn't stop him from declaring war on the gang who caused the unwanted events. I didn't really understand what was going on but...

All I knew was that I was living the ultimate unrealistic reality.

Author's Note:

Hi guys! It's great to get on here and finally publish my work! I've spent a few months planning and writing this, so this is really exciting allowing you guys to read it after all this time! I'd really appreciate it if you voted and commented. It literally takes two seconds, improves my rankings and also helps get it recognized for the countless amount of hours I put into writing. I'd also love to hear about what you think of this story. I'd like to take on board all constructive criticism sent my way and I would love to hear your opinion on 'Elude'.

Thanks!

 Beth x.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 09, 2015 ⏰

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