Prologue
The security clicked as Charlize reloaded her handgun finely chiseled. It was silver with golden markings engraved in the metal of the barrel and on the grip. The pistol was elegant, the kind of deadly grace and beauty that would catch the eyes. It hasn't been used in many years, hidden in the black wooden box that she kept in the shadows of her dark wardrobe.
With the tip of her slender fingers, Charlize caressed delicately the small initials carved into the silver frame of the gun. "CKL". Charlize Kendall Love. Her real name. One she hasn't used in a very, very long time, and one that she still refused to use. That gun was the only thing remaining of her past, the only reminder of who she used to be before him. With more than five years on the run, you'd think she'd feel safe, but she still felt extremely paranoid. Charlize would change her name and leave the region every time something suspicious happened.
It's ridiculous, she thought while gently putting the pistol in its case. Changing my life style like this all the time, it's ridiculous.
Indeed it was ridiculous. That's why she made a decision that night. To stop running. She would still hide, but she wouldn't hide in one of those holes she has been for the past few years. She would hide in the lights, so blinding that no one would suspect her, but most of all, she would hide right in the territory of the enemy of those who were looking for her. The thing that influenced her decision? A small publicity in a journal of a Burlesque bar. The Dirty Money.
She closed the pistol case, locking it swiftly, and put it in one of her duffel bags, before taking a cigarette from her purse. She walked to the balcony of her crappy motel, admiring the dark sky only lit up by stars, the normally bright moon absent. Taking her vintage lighter marked 'Carmen' from her pocket, she put the cigarette in her mouth and lit it up, breathing in deeply the smoke. Charlize gazed at the lighter with hatred before shoving it in her pocket again. She blew out the smoke, watching it twirl in the air with a strange satisfaction. Her auburn hair was tied up in a messy bun, her clothes weren't well fitted.
She glanced at the two black bags resting on her bed, one of them full of clothes, the other full of money. Charlize only used the money a few times, and only to pay her rent or a hotel, or even sometimes a taxi. The fortune lying in the dark bag wasn't even changed from those spending. She came closer to the dark bag and opened it, looking down at the many wads of cash. She took one and smirked.
Tomorrow she would built back a life with the money of those who destroyed her. It wouldn't be a real life, but it would still be better than the half-life she lived. The only revenge she would ever get and the sole satisfaction of her life.
Tomorrow she would become a new person, with a new name, a new style, a new past, a new purpose.
YOU ARE READING
dirty money (l.t.)
Fanfiction(Louis Tomlinson Alternate universe, R) In the game of power and money, there are very few rules. First, be the player, not the played. Second, there are no rules. Play dirty to get the money is what they say. In Charlize K. Love's world, money is t...
