Angel of death

Prologue

I needed to be silenced because I shined too bright.

I needed to be domesticated because I was too wild.

I needed to be crippled because I was too independent.

I needed to be broken.......so I broke.

Then I took those shards and cut everyone who stood in my way.

AND PAINTED THE SKY A COLOR SO RED.

                                                                                                                                                              - Angel of death

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THEN

Alexandra- 18 years old

New York City.

"-And this is my daughter, Alexandra." Father introduced me to a group of strangers, a group of seasoned and professional killers among whom might be the father of my future husband to be. Or not. It was really no telling their disposition, but they didn't give off the vibe of 'Ruthless-and-powerful-enough-for-my-daughter-to-marry-off-into-for-more-political-power.'

I gave them a megawatt smile which my father disapproved, of course, as was apparent from his icy glare. I resisted the urge to flinch, "It is a pleasure to meet you all, gentlemen."

Some nodded with smirks on their face, some leered.

I sat down on the dining table close to my father, as everybody proceeded to take their seats. By standard, Mother should have been here, pretending to be his trophy wife as if he did not just cheat on her yesterday.

She was drugged out of her goddamn mind in her room and I could feel no sympathy for the woman that should have been my mother.

She had no right to call herself our mother. And people could judge me for being a selfish bitch but it was because of her that Me, Covey and Ashton were 50 shades of fucked up.

She gave us hope....and then she shattered and left me to pick the pieces up. Not once, not twice. Every time. Thousand times.

 It was only after maids had served food on our plates and father took a bite out of his food, did we pick up our forks and dig in. But that would not be the correct word, would it?

I primly twirled my fork around the lasagna as if I wasn't fucking starving and brought it to my lips. My demure ever so gentle. Sheep, they must think of me.

Little did they know, I was a fucking wild child. Had been, since I was born. Wild, reckless, bright, and not for this world. But I survived, I adapted.

"We won't have to worry about Bratva acting up now, with Ashton having already killed their enforcer. The Russians must be shaken up." Loony face laughed

My fingers tightened around the fork at the mention of my brother.

My father offered everyone a calculated smile, "This will be the stepping stone for him to take over this family and to become the leader of Devil cove."

Everyone nodded, soon an easy conversation started flowing among them. I kept quite as was expected of me, but it was more because if I spoke more than what was required, I might flip someone off. That would earn me a good beating and I was still sore from my previous episode.