Vengeance

17 years later: Angela's POV

PART ONE

It's hard being the daughter of two incredibly powerful people.

Sometimes I wonder what sort of life I'd have had if I weren't their daughter, other times I find myself questioning if I'd even want to know.

There are children who grew up rich and poor, then there are children who grow up with dangers surrounding them. You have to choose a lifestyle; be scared and hide, or be just as dangerous.

And right now... well, let's just say I've had an idea.

"Oh, come on, Oliver, don't be a wuss just make the jump." I squint up, covering my eyes with my hand as I watch Oliver's worrisome face stare down at me from my hotel window.

"Ang, I don't know about this shit. If your mom finds us gone we're so dead."

I roll my eyes, he's always so worried, ever since we were younger I've had to watch over him, protect him. Always have, and always will.

I grin watching his blonde hair flurry around messily in the wind as he inhaled deeply and lets it loose. He looks just like the pictures of his mother, it's almost scary. I never met her considering she died while giving birth to him, but there are plenty of pictures my mom saved when they were friends.

Oliver jumps down the two stories and lands on the pile of garbage bags and I yelp then slap my hand over my mouth, giggling at Oliver buried in the stink pile.

We're currently on a trip with our parents. Mom and dad have a business to attend to and Oliver's dad, Caleb works for them so he had to come too. They never leave us behind in New York considering how much of a trophy we hard to people that want them dead.

We're liabilities to my parents, and I try to explain to them how I can help, that I'm strong enough but it's always no. It's too dangerous, they say.

"Get. up." I bend over and attempt to yank Oliver's tall dense figure up. He's not the biggest guy in the world, but my yanking did no justice in showing my strength. He didn't even budge until he stood up himself.

"Can you tell me what your plan is and why you dragged me out of my room?"

We walk down the street of Los Angeles, where my dad was born. "Do you know why we had to come here?"

He shrugs, "Your parents have some business to deal with."

I nod. "My parents are have been on the lookout for this man from their past for years and he's not shown up at all. I think his name was... Wilson? Anyway, there's been no sign of him until now. I overheard them talking in my dad's office and—"

"You mean you eavesdropped," Oliver smirks.

"Whatever. Listen, there's a mafia here in LA that threatened my family—said that they were going to come after us if my mom didn't negotiate with them. They sent a man to deliver this message, he walked into one of our parties and said it before shooting himself in the head."

Oliver doesn't even react to that. It's not surprising news to hear someone's shot themselves, he wasn't there that day, he was with Caleb helping his dad out with stuff.

As we cross a street towards one of Oliver's Motorcycles parked off the side of the hotel we were staying at, I'm yanked back by my waist just as a car zooms past us.

"Careful," Oliver stresses, gripping my hips. "Jesus, Angela. Watch where you're walking."

I glance down at his very... long... fingers wrapped around me tightly. The fear that passed him showing at how tense they are.