The Widow's Daughter ✔︎

Sneak Peak of Sequel...

Author's Note: Hey everyone, it's me again. Rest assured that there is going to be a Widow's daughter Sequel, and for now, here is a sneak peak of what might happen in the next book. I hope you enjoy reading it, and there's more coming soon!

Holly's POV

I was woken up by my alarm beeping shrilly in my ear, and, groaning, I rolled over on my bed to turn it off. Yawning and stretching, I rubbed my sleep-encrusted eyes blearily, looking around. It was still pitch black, and the blinking green numbers on my alarm clock read 4:30.

I slumped off my bed, which was hard, like a slab of rock, covered by only one blanket, just how I liked it. Flicking the duvet up with my palms, I expertly made it prison-warden neat, tucking the blanket into the mattress. My room in the Avengers Tower was stark (gettit?) and bare, containing nothing apart from my bed, wardrobe, mirror and desk. The walls were white and it had a nice view out over the field, but it was quite small, and purposefully distanced from my sister's.

Kira and Evie's rooms were right next to one another, on the same level as me, but on the other end, near Natasha's room. When Tony had asked where I wanted my room to be, I'd purposefully asked for it to be away from everyone else's, and nobody had argued. As nice as they were, the Avengers didn't really trust me yet, and the only person who I really felt comfortable around was Kira, although she spent most of her time hanging out with Evie, Ben, and Peter.

The Salvatore Squad weren't here. They tended to come and go, and hardly spoke to me anymore. Although, I supposed I'd deserved that.

I did get lonely sometimes, watching the Avengers hang out like a big family. I'd never had a proper family before - and besides, love weakens people. I couldn't save to be weak, not right now, even though there were some days when I wished I could act like Natasha's daughter, like Kira did.

I hastily climbed out of my pyjamas and into a fresh pair of tracksuit pants and my black training hoodie. I combed my messy shoulder-length red hair back into a sleek ponytail and brushed my teeth. I didn't bother with makeup, like Evie and Kira wore, leaving my face looking gaunt and hollow, deep bags under my eyes.

I laced up my black sneakers, which I only used for their true purpose - to be sneaky. And so, making sure to be as quiet as possible, I treaded softly out of my room.

I made my way along Natasha's floor. I could see with a pang of homesickness that in Kira's room, she, Evie and Peter were laughing as they bounced on the bed. Peter flung a sour strap at Evie and Kira threw her head back, laughing that ugly-snort laugh she did. Rolling my eyes, I moved past, heading down the stairs to the training floor.

Then, after covering my hands in chalk, I started to train. I moved through my fitness routine like I always did, starting with 100 pushups and moving on to 200 sit ups. I swung myself from the beams and practiced my flexibility, going into the splits. I punched the punching bag so hard my fists began to bleed, and after I'd bound them, I continued until the sun rose. When the clock said 8:15, and I was sweaty and wobbly on my feet, I decided that, after checking the door that nobody was there, I started to go through my ballet routine, moving to the barre. I asked FRIDAY to play the Swan Lake soundtrack and danced my worries away, prancing around the training room like I was a little girl again. When I danced, I could forget that I was Holly Adams, Natasha Romanoff's disgraced third daughter, and become somebody else - somebody better. I forgot about my perfect sisters, about the Salvatores, about the horrors of the Battle of Galway.

I could forget about everything.

As I moved into the grand jete, I heard a noise behind me. Somebody was clearing their throat. I stopped dancing immediately, a scowl darkening my face as I looked towards the maker of the noise.