Revenge

GIRLS OF A FEATHER FLOCK TOGETHER

CHAPTER I:

"Riv lock up for me" daran (jar-an) stated leaving before giving me a chance to answer.

I sighed and looked down at my watch. 4:52 Two minutes away from closing time I might as well leave a tad bit early. Buttoning up my Burberry cape coat and slipping on my elbow length gloves I closed up the book store.

My name is Rivulet udinov
(Rev-u-let) (u-den-o-v)

..

I walked down the Street about 4 blocks maybe to my building. A spacious 4 bedroom apartment I share with a short Russian girl.

Her name is Alexandrea.

She was bought on the same boat that I was shipped here on. As cruel as it sounds we bonded in that crate.

Over 72 hours with no food or water is how we bonded, She told me her story .

A typical Russian girl with bankrupt parents who sold their daughter but not to a work camp like they had assumed. My story was slightly different for two reasons

1: My parents weren't broke. They were one of the wealthiest bloodlines in Russia

And

2: they knew what they were selling me to.

They gave me away August 23, 2009

And I was 16 years old.

6 years ago the gave me away because the death of they're daughter would pull poles towards my father becoming one of the highest govoner of Russia.

It was easy because I wasn't like them. I was adopted as a child, but what I didn't know until after hours of snooping through my fathers office and until I did a little confidential research myself, is that My father had an affair through out his marriage, to an american women her name was Cynthia Johnson.

My stepmother found out sixteen years too late and was furious. I remember sitting on the stairs with my brother listening to her call me the devil child. How she would no longer tolerate something made from his  infidelity, how he needed to do something about me.

From there they devised a plan. To fake his daughters murder and sell her to someplace they were sure that she would never see the light again. A place where she could never escape

People would be mourning poor rivulet and to give condolences they would give they're vote.

I remember the stories my friends and brother would tell me about the american camps and what they did to the women who were sold.

My brother Karan (kuh-ra-n) was always so jittery and looking back into the past I can see that he has always been skeptical of my fathers intentions from that night on the stairs and then on. He began teaching me strange things, about technology and all in all survival.

I had never understood why he taught me these things but I would always give my full attention because spending time with karen was my favorite pass time.

When we were released from our crates on the run down ship I was more grateful than anything for the knowledge he had bestowed upon me,

when the disgusting men held us In Front of them to ensure we would not escape Is when all the training and long hours at work my brother put into me, all the late night fight sessions and early morning gun range trips kicked in.

It didn't take me long to pull at his arm full force and grab the .45 caliber from his waistband and shoot the man guarding Alexandrea.

By the time the two other men had realized what had happened I had already put a bullet into there chest.

Alex and I had freed twenty girls that night. Some ran to find the captain to find there way back to their country,  maybe not to go home but to go some place like it

Most, like me ran into the night but Alexandrea was the only one to follow my lead.

We have been together ever since. And after begging for money for 2 hours that night in New York City, I finally came up on $10.

I stopped at a small corner store. After buying a plastic prepaid card.

That night we slept outside behind a dumpster because I knew from many trips to America I took with my family that things here don't stay open long past 6 pm.

As soon as I reached a public library the next morning and walked in, tattered rags and all I sat at a computer.

I single handily emptied every off shore account my family had.

Equaling up to about 7.4 billion dollars.

Only 800 would fit on a card the rest I set up my own bank account with. That day I bought any and everything Alexandrea wanted and I promise she'll never be poor again.

I smiled at the thought. We had bought an apartment in manhattan 2 days later. Paying a high fashion looking women from the street to finalize the deal for us.

I smiled at the memory.

"ALEX" I yelled from downstairs throwing my coat on the white suede sectional.

"WHAAT" she called back. She was 20 now. And I took care of her like my own. although she spoke English very well. We spoke what we wanted at home.

I purchased us both green cards and later citizenship. School and I is where Alex learned such good English.

I knew from my brother who spoke the language fluently. I taught Alex at age 14 so she too could be fluent. She dose well in school as did I.

Alexandrea came trudging down the steps a grin plastered across her face.

"How was work" she smirked. I didn't have to work but it made me feel a little more American.

"Alright I suppose" I smile

I always tried to make sure Alex wore the best and was refined. Being a former governors daughter I was the definition of refined.

"Ballet?" I raised an eyebrow. She nodded confirming it was okay.

"I have a friend coming this evening" she nervously shifts.

I nod not understanding her odd behavior. But only walking through the gigantic living space to the upstairs level to the large oval shaped room.

I sat at the round desk coverd with assault snippers, revolvers, and c4. 

They'll pay for what they did to me.

'There's a storm coming pa I hope your ready' I smile at the thought 

----------------------------**

HEY GUYS ST THIS IS NEW I KNOW BUT IT'LL BE GOOD I PROMISE YOU'LL LOVE EVERY SECOND OF itThis is just a teaser guys

VOTE COMMENT SHARE!!!😘💕

WORD COUNT 866