Zero Seven (Book 3)

Prologue

Prologue

Slicing a lump of rare and soft meat for Dominika, who's utterly infuriated with the person seated across, has never been this difficult for her. Imagine holding a knife while trying to bring an end to your desire from wanting to cut some old hag's filthy little tongue. That was like asking her to have mercy, a word that had never existed in her lexicon.

The old man was fully aware that he'd end up lying in his blood any moment from now, but that thought didn't bother him at all as he wanted to see how heinous a product of a Parker and Lewisham could be. If only he knew how perfect the creation would be, he could have asked for a grandson who could seamlessly renew the family's tradition instead. But who cares? His blood ran through hers.

"Is Italy the new spot for Buckingham Palace, dear?"

Perceiving what the old man asked, Dominika refrained from cutting the completely beaten meat and quickly glanced over at him. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?"

Using the napkin, she wiped the side of her lips and tossed it over the table, not minding how rude she could be. The old man said nothing but a grimace all over his face and placed some sliced meat on Dominika's plate, infuriating her even more. She slammed the table while clenching the knife and was about to say something when the flight attendant suddenly arrived.

"This is the beef tenderloin you requested, Mr. Parker." The flight attendant served up the dish with a smile on her face. "Also, this wine is the 1945 Domaine de la Romanee-Conti," she muttered as she poured another glass of wine for the old man.

Dominika affixed her eyes at the flight attendant and cautiously watched how she was desperately trying to seduce the old man, leaning forward, showing how attractive her cleavage was, yet he didn't even cast her a single glance.

"Detesika Parker," the old man called out as soon as Dominika stood up to leave. "You are not yet done. Respect the food and the money, how dare you, young lady." His voice was deadly calm, not bothering to glance over her as well.

Dominika heaved a sigh and turned her heel to get back on her seat, but her brow furrowed seeing the flight attendant still standing where she was.

"Could you please leave us?" Dominika told the flight attendant with her stern eyes.

"Sure..." Before leaving, she frowned at Dominika, so a little smirk formed on her lips out of amusement.

"Dominika Parker," the old man named again when she was about to leave the cabin and follow the stewardess with the knife she was currently holding.

"Lewisham, Grandfather," Dominika corrected as she made herself comfortable again in front of the cuisine. "You've lived long enough. I think this is the right time for you to rest," she continued before taking a sip of her red wine.

"You, brat." The old man grinned, still not bothering to glance at her as he was busy savoring the beef. "I remember you were a year old when I started teaching you how to use a gun. I killed hundreds of people before your eyes, but you can't even harm a mere bird."

"State your point."

"Revenge?" Finally, he lifted his head to see her as he wiped both sides of his lips with a napkin. "Can you do it without my help? You might end up choosing love and sympathy similar to what your fool mom did."

Dominika disinterestedly sighed. "I am not Devi Parker. I am not your daughter. I want you to stop minding my business, Grandfather," she said with her voice seriously calm.