She is the Queen

Chapter 17

Understanding his plan was not even a challenge. Earlier in the day, I had received notice of a delay in the delivery of the champagne for the evening's ball. It seemed like a minor inconvenience at the time, and I didn't pay much attention to it. Little did I know that this seemingly insignificant delay would lead to a night of revelation and confrontation.

As I entered the ballroom, I couldn't help but notice a man in the corner, standing alone and fidgeting with his handcuffs. He was tall, white, and had platinum blonde hair. His nervousness was palpable, but when our eyes locked, I saw a mocking expression on his face. Something about him set off alarm bells in my head.

Recognizing the importance of gathering information, I immediately instructed Jeremy, my right-hand man, to find out everything he could about this mysterious man. It took Jeremy just ten minutes to uncover the man's affiliation with the Russian Gang. I began connecting the dots, trying to understand the purpose behind his presence at the ball.

Despite the flawless security measures in place, I couldn't shake the feeling that a potential massacre was being planned. How could such an event unfold in a room filled with gangsters and under tight security? That's when a realization struck me like lightning. If this man wanted to eliminate thousands of gangsters within the confines of a seemingly impenetrable security bubble, how would he do it?

Then, it hit me. The answer was something simple, something that existed within the scene, and something that would affect everyone present. He couldn't plant a bomb, as he had his accomplice with him, and that would cause an international terrorism crisis. Suddenly, my thoughts raced back to the delayed champagne delivery earlier in the day.

Without wasting another moment, I made my way to the back of the ballroom, where the bustling waitstaff were busy navigating through the crowd. In the kitchen, I located the champagne bottles and quickly poured a glass. The liquid had a slightly blueish hue, a telltale sign of paraquat, a deadly poison when added to alcohol. The plan was to poison the guests.

As events unfolded, I noticed the man's accomplice filming the situation from a second-floor balcony. It was clear that his intentions were to document the chaos and destruction that would follow. Little did he know that his fate would mirror that of his partner.

---

As I was about to step into my car, a strong grip grabbed my wrist and forcefully turned me around. I was taken aback and found myself face-to-face with Andrea. 

"Andrea?" I asked. 

"Where are you going?" He questioned me.

"Home?"

"No. You are coming with me." He said with an authority that didn't allow further argument.

He gently pushed me inside his car.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked aggravated.

"About what?" I managed to stammer out, desperately trying to make sense of the situation unfolding before me.

He sighed heavily, his eyes scanning my face. "That you had to grow up so quickly, that you're just a seventeen-year-old girl burdened with the weight of the world. That you wear a mask to make people fear you, hiding your struggles deep inside. Was tonight your first time killing someone?" His words hung heavy in the air as he muttered an expletive under his breath.

Suddenly, his eyes transformed from their intimidating intensity to a warm green, filled with genuine concern. A flicker of vulnerability passed through his gaze, and I couldn't help but feel a slight pang of empathy.

"When was it?" he asked, his voice quieter now, his eyes never leaving mine as if trying to decipher the truth hidden within me. I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not to trust him with my darkest secrets. But something about him made me believe he could understand, that he might be able to offer me the guidance I so desperately sought.

Feeling a surge of courage, I made a decision. "It was a while ago," I replied softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I've been carrying the weight of it ever since." The admission left me feeling exposed, vulnerable yet strangely liberated.

In that moment, his mouth curved into a faint smile, and he gently reached out to take my hand. "You don't have to bottle everything up," he said with a hint of reassurance. "I'm here now, and together, we can face whatever challenges come our way."

Maybe eight months ago, if you had asked me whether I still wanted to continue with my plan in the face of all these challenges, I would have hesitated. I would have doubted my decision. I would have yearned for a normal life, for the simple joys and freedoms afforded to a typical seventeen-year-old teenager. But deep down, I knew the truth. I had never had a normal life, and I shouldn't kid myself into thinking otherwise.

Suddenly, without warning, he pulled me closer to him, his eyes boring into mine. "Why didn't you tell me, Laila?" he exclaimed, frustration and disappointment laced in his voice.

His sudden proximity startled me, and I found myself at a loss for words. How could I explain to him the weight I carried on my shoulders, the darkness that engulfed my every step? How could I make him understand that revealing my secrets to him would only put him in danger?

"Goddammit, Laila!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and worry. Perhaps it was because of all the chaos and destruction that surrounded us, the constant threat of danger lurking in our shadows. Or maybe it was because deep down, he cared about me, about what I had been through, and wanted to protect me from any further harm.

"What do you mean why I didn't tell you?" I snapped back at him, my fury bubbling to the surface. It wasn't his fault, but I couldn't help but direct my anger towards him in that moment. I had never wanted him to see this side of me, to witness the darkness and violence that consumed my every step.

"Dude, I haven't seen you for six months. Six damn months," I continued, my voice filled with frustration and desperation. "What do you expect me to do? Return to being the same innocent girl that you once liked? Did you really think that was possible after everything I've been through?"

As I spoke, I could feel the heat rising in my face, the fire of my rage burning within me. I chuckled sarcastically, trying to cool down and regain control of my emotions. But the words spilled out of me without thought, pouring out in a torrent of emotions and confessions.

"Or did you think I would fill you in on the battles I faced, not just with our rivals, but also with myself? Did you want to know how I had to close my fucking eyes and stay silent when innocent civilians got caught in the crossfire of this war that I started? Did you want me to recount how my thirst for power threatened to consume my very identity, how I feared I would lose sight of who I truly was?"

My words came out in a rush, my anxiety and anguish evident in the rapid pace of my speech. I felt the weight of my actions bear down on me, the burden of guilt and regret burying me beneath its heavy load.

"And let's not forget how I had to end lives, to watch as their bodies became soulless, their breaths fading away into the darkness. I had to stare into their lifeless eyes and wonder if they had dreams, if they had regrets or loved ones left behind. I tortured traitors to instill fear in others, but the truth is, the one who feared me the most was myself. I hated what I had become, how I had blood stains on my hands almost every day. How could I be so selfish?"

I paused, turning away from him as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I didn't want him to see my vulnerability, to witness the pain that consumed me. I trembled as I tried to regain control of my emotions, to steady myself in the face of the turmoil raging inside me.

And then, in that moment, he surprised me.