Victoria Hush is a beloved daughter who lost her father and hero. The Mob had been over taking Coastal City for too long, and her father was killed because of them.
Now, as an adult, revenge is all Victoria wants out of life. Once she achieves her l...
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"Camille, dear, you must attend. Your father will be expecting you there." I didn't have to see my mother's face to know that she was tired. Her voice always gave it away. I knew she hated these phone calls, but not more than I did.
"Oh, Mother, you and I both know that isn't true." I sighed and leaned against my Bugatti La Voiture Noire, looking out at the city below the Pointe I was currently parked at. The city lights twinkled like stars in the distance as I twirled a steel Kunai between my fingers. I was just in the middle of practicing my knife throwing when my mother's phone call interrupted me. The sweaty man currently tied to the tree I was practicing on was making so much noise. Even with the bind in his mouth, he was absolutely annoying. "Just a moment, Mother." I place my phone to my chest and point the Kunai in my hand at George Castiliano, my current target practice partner.
He was a spy from the rival Italian mob in the next town over Trove City. They'd been trying to infiltrate us for months. They were annoying little gnats that never seemed to go away. This time, I decided I'd have a little fun instead of killing him on the spot. "Listen, Georgie- May I call you Georgie? It's quite clear I'm on the phone with my mum, and you are, for the lack of a better word, being incredibly rude. So if you don't mind," I throw the knife, hearing it make that beautiful whistling sound I loved when I threw it just right, and it hit the tree trunk snuggled against his right cheek.
It barely grazed him, but a few trickles of blood making their appearance let me know my training was paying off. He whimpered and screwed his eyes shut tightly, more beads of sweat falling from his shiny bald head. "Much better, thanks, love." I put the phone back to my ear and crossed my arm over my chest. "Now, what were we discussing? Oh yes. I'm not going to that event."
My mother took a deep breath, a clear sign I was pushing her buttons, as always. "This is the only time they all get together, and you know it. You haven't a choice, Camille Elizabeth Pierce."
I was a grown woman for crying out loud. I've killed, bled, and bruised men of all ages and sizes, and here I was, backing down because mummy said my full name. How pathetic. I swallow hard and decided to bite my tongue with the words I really wanted to say. I knew sometimes I could be a bit harsh to her, but there were things she just didn't understand. Instead, I replied with, "And what of Logan? As long as he's there, Father won't even notice I'm gone."
"Your brother has his own problems he needs to work through at the moment.... Don't anger your Father. Be there, or I can't help you when it's time to face the consequences." The line cuts and anger swell inside of my chest.
I'm a damn good daughter. I follow every command, every job I'm sent on, and handle every problem when shit hits the fan. Is it ever enough? Of course fucking not. Because Logan was the eldest, the Chosen One, and worst of all, a man. It boiled my blood to think my family measured worth by what lies between our legs. Following old rules simply because certain Mob family allies sought out only those that liked things the traditional way to be in a position of power. My father lives and breathes by those traditions, and he expects us to do the same as his heirs. But for me, it didn't matter. I was always destined to be second to Logan. No matter how many I've killed and conquered, or how many millions I could have quite literally bathed in, but because of my vagina I'd never be seen as worthy.
