Sometimes life isnt worth living.
We all have our pasts.A place where our Demons go to hide.Waiting to be brought back and create havoc.Destroying the walls we build so high.
Julians POV
Calmly placing my glass on the desk I intertwine my fingers staring at the woman in front of me.
Her black curls hang loosely around her face.Her green eyes have a mossy tint to them.Lips red as a cherry.
"So the terms have been set Julian.My brother is not pleased with your new choice to take a bride.Much less a biker whore."
"Tracey.Tracey.Tracey.Has your brother not taught you anything?"
A look of confusion crosses her face
"You come into my home.Disrespect me .But one thing is for sure you will not disrespect my fiance!"
She turned her head to me in submission.Those dark curls shealding her from my potent gaze.
"I just came to deliver the message,thats all"
The sound of her heels hitting the floor echoed through out my office.The slam of the door is the only indication that she left.
Sighing I sit back into the chair,my eyes scan over the old study that belonged to my father and his father before him.To say the study had seen history in the making would be an understatement.
The cream walls hold a morbid tint to them.The book shelves lining those walls filled to the brink with books that have never really been read.
Our family portrait clings to the wall above the fireplace.A look of happiness painted into the canvass .Fake smiles and fake love oozes from the painting.
Grabbing my suit jacket I walk out onto the balcony.The sun light slowly starts to turn into the dark of the night.Birds hastily fly above my head.Nothing but the sound of water and wind blowing echoes through me.Inhaling the fresh air an image of Angel comes to mind.
The look of hurt that crossed her face this morning when I told her she would be seeing a psychologist would be embedded in my mind forever.She was hurt and felt betrayed, anyone would.But it had to be done.She is sick and needs help.
My thoughts are cut short by the old gruff voice of my father.
"To see you standing out here brings back fond memories"he chuckles
"Father.you wouldn't be here if you didn't need something.I suggest you talk before my fiance comes home."With my back turned to him he speaks
"The Bikers are getting inpatient.I have Michael breathing down my neck about some name you promised him"he takes a step closer to me.
"I did not give the old bastard a dead line as to when I will deliver"
An old hand grips my shoulder forcing me to turn and face the eye patched 62 year old.
"If you give up the name to the bikers you will be breaking Omerta!The families wont be pleased!"
Gripping my father by his collar I slam him into the glass doors.He claws at my arms trying to free himself.
"Never.And I mean never accuse me of breaking Omerta!"I seethe towards the man who raised me.
"Then what do you plan to give them?A false name?They may be a bunch of barbarians but they are not idiots.They will find that you played them and come after you"
My grip loosens on my father.Stepping back I pick up the discarded jacket and walk into the office.
Sitting down in the desk chair my father across from me.
"I plan on giving them the Karovski name.Its all information I will release to them."
Bewilderment crosses my fathers features.
"Your going to start a war between the Russians and the bikers?Are you mad boy!Blood will stain the street.Women will be widowed.Children fatherless.Do you want to bare that burden!"he storms up.Pacing the office.
"It will be killing two birds with one stone."
YOU ARE READING
Anarchy Angel
Teen FictionA bikers tale .About a daughter of a well known biker president.Who he gives away to a mafia boss .She is hardeaded and broken He is broken and demented. Sometimes you can fix another broken thing with your broken pieces.
