Logan and I grew up together. Same house. Same routine.
And yes, we did have different parents.
Our family has a...complicated relationship.
My mom and his mom met at work, at a heist in London. The two thieves really hit it off and became best friends. Logan's dad, Harold Westlemore the IV, caught his mom attempting to steal his star sapphire at his Austrian estate. She was too busy staring at his picture instead of overriding his security cameras. That little mistake became a wedding four months later, and Danielle and Harold had a beautiful baby boy a couple of years later. You see, Harold's best friend, Lorenzo Ascalon. Lorenzo hadn't told Harold the way he had gotten his wealth, but lets just day more than one country has his name at the top oh their 'Handsome and Dangerous' list. It may have been one of Daddies alibis, but it was still Daddy. Vivian, Danielle's old sister in crime, didn't like Lorenzo's back-story and looked into him. Four weeks later a quick Vegas marriage had been conducted and Vivian wasn't a loner anymore.
When Vivian became pregnant two months after Danielle, Harold and Lorenzo got together and decided to build a house. It may be five floors, filled with million and billion dollar artifacts and decorations, but if you don't count the seventeen guest bedrooms, four pools and personal menagerie, it was just a house. Sure, a house that took up an even eight acres and possessed another twenty of the surroundings, but it was still a house.
That's where Logan and I grew up. Until we turned eight we were the only children to run through those halls. We were considerably miffed when we visited the mansion in New York, sizable flat in London, virtual palace in Italy and centuries old castle in Vienna, but hey-we'd grown up around class.
Logan had been my brother-we'd never been separated and even took our classes with the same tutors at the same time-but then he turned thirteen and I turned twelve.
All I could say was WOW.
I'm fifteen now, and Logan turns sixteen in a few weeks.
Before the name Riviera Ascalon became a synonym for deception, Lorenzo, and dangerous I lived the life of the rich and almost-famous.
Then a worm named Ferguson Paine sought to wriggle it's ugly way at my father, a man he claimed to have 'wronged' him.
I wish some bird had stopped him, because he made life a word that meant strife, ultimate and unending peril, and more IMPORTANTLY-BAIT.
Did I mention he ruined my sweet sixteen?!?!
Stupid worm.
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Logan Westley (short for Westlemore, which he hates)
Handsome. Has honey-brown eyes with flecks of gold and the most beautiful tan skin ever. Brown hair that flips just the right way-basically a grown-up Leo Howard, with a bit more muscle, a bit more style, and a bit more strength. Sixteen, black belt, does more physical than technical. Never leaves my side and is vicious with just his well-toned body *sigh*
River (short for Riviera) Ascalon
Beautiful. :D. Pale gold-grey eyes, stupidly soft thick black hair. Thin as a willow, but with curves. I definitely have curves. Thank you Mom! No muscle to speak of. Period. But I can shoot a gun, and I can kill with a set of Bow and arrows. Bow to the bow Queen! Boo-ya! :D
Charlie (short for Charlie) Carmens
Wickedly enchanting. My number one bodyguard and best friend. Surprisingly this bewitching beauty (hee hee alliteration! I’m weird like that) is only sixteen. She can throw knives like nobodies business, and her boyfriend, Beck Anderson, also one of my bodyguards, taught her how to shoot too. She's not as good as me, but almost. Shoulder-length dirty blond hair, sparkling blue eyes.
Beck Anderson
Charlie's boyfriend, whom I mentioned above. He controls the technical side of protecting me and somehow has 'connections' which have really helped out sometime. Eighteen, with dusty brown hair and ice-blue eyes. Logan's close friend.
Catkin (sometimes we call her Cat, but it depends) Woodsmore
In my circle of bodyguard-friends, which seems to be the only friends I have now. Crazy curly shoulder-length red hair and gray-olive eyes. Is the 'researcher' of the group-the one who looks up background information and gives us the latest gadget, et cetera, et cetera... She doesn't really need to fight, her technology fights for her. Sixteen.
Jazz (short for Jasmine [we live for nicknames]) Nichols
Last one in my circle of friends. Long golden blond hair and light blue eyes. She is with me most of the time, and her specialty is bombs of any kind. Favorite weapon? The miniature machine gun her father got her. She brings it everywhere.
Of course, these aren't all the people in the story. Just the ones you see the most. You only see Logan all-most of the time.
Well, time to start exploding things. YAY!
STAI LEGGENDO
Protect Me Always
Teen Fiction"Logan?" I snuggled closer into my boyfriend's chest; memorizing the sound of his breathing had recently become something important now that I knew moments like this alone with him were scarce and far from guaranteed. "Yeah?" "Why," I shifted to st...
