Money, Power, Glory.

MPG: Chapter 1

Hi! I know that it's hard to understand what is going on in the story with the Portuguese, so if it would be easier for you guys I can put the english translations after the Portuguese speech. If you would prefer that then let me know in the comments please! x :)

Chapter 1

I left Eddie standing there in the cold with a heartbroken look on his face, while I walked away with a smug look on mine. I opened the door to my pure black mustang and sped out of the driveway. I never felt anything when I did these things, although feelings were the one of the many things that make us human.

The name is Isabella Sanchez; I usually am called Isa. I have piercings and a few tattoos scattered around my body but I don't mind wherever they get put. My skin is slightly tan all year round, even though living in London, it's mostly cold. Creds to my mother, I have long, dark brown, curly locks that weigh a ton, and from my fathers side I have the fit gene, most of the people on my dad's side of the family have are fit and toned.

I've broken many hearts and made many boys go broke. You could say im a gold digger but I've got much more purpose than them. You see, I call them boys because they are innocent and naive; until I come around and flip their world upside down. I get them hooked, wanting more, I'm basically their drug and their dealer all in one. I give them what they want and in exchange take what they have. But that part of course, is without permission. All I care about is their money, power and their glory. I could care less about the fancy cars and all those things, I can get them on my own. All I want to do is ruin, each and every one of them.

Driving down the winding road feels like a lifetime, but not when you're living the way you want to live your life. I pulled up to the large, dark blue mansion, now owned by yours truly. Shutting off the engine I grabbed my purse and phone, zipping up my coat and slid out of my car, now heading towards the tall doors. Setting down my bag once inside, I turned off the alarm and set my outer wear on the bench and walked into the kitchen. And to my surprise, my father was leaning on the counter with a glass a wine in hand of course.

"Well, well, well. It's nice to actually see you around."

"I don't appreciate your sass young lady."

"And what makes you think I care?"

I retorted, a hint of aggravation laced in my voice.

"You sound like your mother, Isabella."                                                                                                    

I rolled my eyes, opening a cupboard and reaching for a stem less wine glass.

"I really hate when you call me that."

"Anyways, you know that the family reunion is coming up in a few days. I bought you a ticket to Brazil, now you can finally meet some family from your mothers side."

"You did what? Why the hell would you send me there, are you trying to get me to commit suicide?"

My father chuckled at my response, probably thinking I sound like my teenage self, 8 years ago. I could feel my blood boil from all the anger I was feeling right now.

"You leave tomorrow morning, I would suggest you start getting your things together. The limo will be here tomorrow at 5:45 tomorrow morning. Your flight leaves at 6:30."

He walked down the hallway, setting his glass of wine down on the table, then opening the door. I followed him out to the front door, practically stomping my feet down the hallway.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS, I'M NOT A CHILD ANYMORE! YOU CAN'T JUST ORDER ME AROUND LIKE THIS!" 

He waited for me to stop yelling, sighed and spoke.

"Yes, I can. I am your father, in case you forgot."

A slam of the door echoed through the hallway and kitchen, leaving me to be frustrated and furious in my own silence.