Iris Giorgianni is no ordinary girl. She's living a double life: a neglected daughter at home, but a fighter on the streets. As the leader of The Sangue - one of the most wanted and well-known gangs in London - Iris has a reputation to uphold. Only...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Absolute silence leads to sadness. It is the image of death"
- Jean-Jacques Rousseau
AN UNDERSTANDING was something Iris' parents would never have. Even as they looked down at their daughter in a hospital bed, her waist wrapped in a thick, blood soaked bandage, Iris was sure that they felt nothing but abhorrence. At least, that's what she guessed from the looks on their faces.
"I just don't understand." Her mother was saying, shaking her head vigorously as if it were loose and about to fall off. Her hair was pinned back so immaculately that it glistened in the light, matching the shine of her bright red lipstick painted on her thin lips. Iris realised then that she was glad she looked mostly like her father. At least she didn't have her mother's constantly frowning face.
Not that her father was that much different. He too, looked extremely stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his phone constantly ringing in his pocket. Her parents were both dressed for work - as they were every day - and therefore extremely out of place in the hospital. Domenico Giorgianni sighed loudly, sending his gaze to Iris. "Is this what you want to end up as? Some low life criminal that deals drugs or whatnot?"
Iris rolled her eyes. "I'm not a drug dealer."
"What are you, then?" Her mother laughed, though it was sharp and humourless. "You could have been a privileged and respected woman working with us. But you wasted that, already dressing like a man. I don't even recognise you anymore."
"You don't recognise me? Maybe you should try acting like parents for once, and then you would have watched me grow up."
Iris' father growled, grabbing her wrist and squeezing it so hard she began to lose feeling. A blind rage like a fire swept over him. "Iris Maria Angelica Giorgianni - you will receive the consequences for this, young lady. How dare you speak to us in this way. I'm warning you now. In fact, no more of this," he waved his hands in her direction, a sneer on his face, "façade you've got going on-"
His phone began to ring, breaking his irate mood almost immediately. After answering it swiftly, he left the room, not even looking back in her direction.
The doctor, after having seen the argument immediately dissipate, quickly moved into the room, shutting the door behind him while he had the chance. He sent Iris a concerned look. "I'm afraid the officers are outside. They're going to want to speak to you."
Alessandra scoffed. "And why would they be here?"
"I don't know. They've been pestering us for a while, now-"
"Let them in." Iris said, a pessimistic tone already lacing her words. She was too tired to feel anything. After her parents had been informed of the cause of her wound, they had been shouting at her non-stop, and frankly, she'd had enough. At this rate, she'd rather go to prison.
