Prince Henry was close to ascend to the throne after his parents passed away. His sister, jealous that he would get the throne instead, decided to hire an assassin to kill him.
Going through the dark web in the internet, she contacted an assassin...
" He had it coming He only had himself to blame If you'd a been there, if you'd a heard it I betcha you would've done the same " - CHICAGO
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Monica woke up extra early that day.
Not only to see Freddie safely leave without any trace he was even in her room that night, but also to prepare breakfast for the prince. She'd read in her files that he was a mommy's boy and she knew right away to use that against him.
There's a school of thought: we want a man who either reminds us of our father or not at all or we want a woman who either reminds us of our mother or not at all.
Monica's seen it in action before, when she's been Rose, Celeste, Penny—so many characters she couldn't remember anymore. She's had moguls fall on their knees and weep and had millionaires tell her that they loved her. Now, she could have a prince in love with her.
With Rose she was a sultry seducer to a young millionaire but when they were alone, she was exactly like his deceased mother. She was caring, kind and gentle, the qualities he had missed when his mother had passed away. He told her the sob story—like it weren't already in his files.
A part of her felt bad for starting a gas leak while he slept.
But now she had something even more intriguing: killing a prince.
But this project was longer—harder. The prince was hardly left alone and she knew she had to build it up to a point where in he trusted her enough to be alone. But it couldn't be their first or second or third or even tenth time being alone, that would be too obvious.
The prince all of a sudden dies a few weeks after meeting a new girl no one knows about when she was alone with him?
It needed to be something natural and she needed to be alone with him.
This was going to be a longer project.
She sighed; unenthusiastic.
She was used to long projects—used to being away from her home in Ukraine and away from Freddie. But as the years passed by of other men touching her body and pretending to be in love with them, it began warring her down. Not that she hated her job, she just missed being home.
She thought of the perfect fairytale, being young and married to Freddie in their big mansion and Pete walking her down the aisle. Having a big house with a nice yard, a porch that she could stand on while watching her two children play with her husband. Freddie always wanted a little girl while Monica wanted a boy.
Pete would visit in the weekends, or they'd drive up to Ukraine to visit. She'd tell her kids that Pete was their grandfather. Monica promised to never tell her children of her childhood.
It was her motivation everyday. Every hit, every project she took on, she thought about her children and the life she wanted to give them—a life she never had.
