Before reading, please go back to the Synopsis and read the warning. This book is incredibly dark, twisted, and sickening and I want everyone reading to be prepared with the atrocities that take place and deal with them maturely. A quick reminder that I do not endorse anything happening in this book. -Thank you, Amelia Greyson.
I could still hear the loud chatter of pompous voices echoing through the air like wind kissing your skin with a whisper. Even the stringed instruments were having trouble permeating the wall of sound produced by half-drunk business tycoons and their spouses, all focused on climbing the social hierarchy. They were down the wide twisting halls of the museum but it felt like there were three hundred people breathing down my neck. I didn't like it. Then again, my working conditions weren't always optimal.
I was used to operating in plain sight; doing what no one else dared to do while hiding behind obvious distractions facing the human mind on a daily basis. A car honking, a woman's interesting hair color, an official expression; I had none of those which meant I had to call on my abilities, the ones I'd carved for myself through years of training. There was nothing to save you if you messed up; all you had was your mind and maybe the sorry son of a bitch that followed you into the minefield.
This wasn't the movies. There were no special privileges, no get out of jail free card, no cool gadgets or endless funds. The reality of it was, your government trained you then set you off to fend for yourself.
Until the day comes when you get blacklisted; then you are on your own.
Luckily, I found my calling before I could disappear. I was a traitor, but what do you expect from someone who was fucked over by her own country, the thing she gave everything to. 'Calling' is perhaps the wrong word; that implies I'm comfortable. There is no comfort in a life like mine. Everyone is always trying to outsmart everyone else; to preserve themselves over you. That's why I preferred to work alone because partners can betray you and leave you to die.
Though, maybe there is one thing the movies get right about their fantasy spy worlds and black ops missions. It's that every team has the moral member who got into their mess to help people, the smart one that could do anything with a computer, and the ruthless one that doesn't even blink when killing someone. They're the ones you never quite like on television because they are the first to preserve themselves, they never show any emotion, and they kill whoever they want. There is no glory in it, but since they're on the team, you have to like them. Or at least, most people do. I worked alone; there was no team to make people like me.
It's probably best you do hate me.
No one should ever admire me. No one should envy me. I pay for my fancy cars and designer shoes with the blood that I spill without caring, the people I betray without my heart faltering, and the things I take without regret.
Maybe this is where I'm supposed to tell you something sad to make you like me; to gain empathy. There is nothing sad. My dad hit me, I grew up alone, and I built character. That character made me join the Seals only to be plucked from Hell Week in a black van and taken to a different team; a true black operations team. Don't think it justifies what I do. To a normal person, it shouldn't be justifiable in the slightest.
All I'm saying is it's easy to sit on your high horse and judge me. Call out everything have ever done wrong, point out every choice I could have done to end up in somewhere other than I am now. Everyone thinks they're morally superior but they aren't. Everyone can become the worse human being they can imagine and not even realize it.
Hate me. Fear me. Lust after me. Pray to a higher power that someone murders me. I don't give a fuck. But don't ever love me.
And never ever forget this; I have never made an innocent person suffer and that's about the only thing I have going for myself.
