Vicious Romance

Chapter 1

A/N: Heyo, and welcome to Vicious Romance. This is just a quick welcome note welcoming you to my book. I want to warn you guys that this is the first draft of the book, and I know that there's still grammatical/spelling errors. Trust me, I know. So that's that. Also- this book is mine (if you didn't get the memo). There is absolutely no plagiarizing allowed, and before you ask, no, no you can't publish my book on some other platform without my permission. But anyways, have fun. 

You're a failure. 

That's right —a disgrace, someone who is unwanted.

Those were the words I constantly heard while growing up. Those were the words I heard when I dropped out of medical school, to join the FBI. Those were the words I was hearing now, in this hallway.

Was I crazy? Throwing away a career as a surgeon to focus on my happiness for once, rather than my parents?

They always wanted me to be a doctor. It was the traditional Indian mentality, what could I do about it? They worked hard, used their connections to land me medical internships. It was their attempt to put me ahead of the crowd.

Truth be told, I never had an interest in the field. I didn't like how someone's life depended on me, and my mental capabilities. I didn't know how I was expected to memorize over 2000 words when half the time, I can't even remember what I've eaten for breakfast.

My point being, once I reached medical school, I had become mentally bored with my life. I wanted to do something exciting, like Alex Parish from Quantico, or Gracie Hart from the Miss Congeniality series. I wanted action in my life. I wanted to help save lives by going undercover, and fighting crimes under the noses of people. So after getting my Master's, and completing a year of medical school, I dropped out.

Was it silly to base my career on two fictional characters? Yes. But in my defense, Alex and Gracie were inspiring in those productions when they were working for the FBI.

My life was far from action-filled, when I was in medical school. I was staying up until three every day, studying terms that were impossible to understand. I was confused, roaming around the curriculum like a lost puppy. That's when I decided that I couldn't do this to myself anymore. I couldn't suffocate my future for my parents' happiness. If they wanted a doctor in the family, why didn't they take up a field in medicine? Because they wanted me to pick up their dirty scraps. They were both in the hospitality field, and they failed to make money in their youth years, so they expected me to make more money so I could help THEM achieve THEIR dreams. I was their last resort. They didn't want me to save lives, they just wanted me to bleed money, so at the end of the day, they could take credit for it.

Call me a bad daughter, but I was done playing their games.

This was my life, and a chance to achieve MY dreams. Being a part of the FBI was going to help me do that.

However, when walking down the dim, narrow hallway, I couldn't help but fill up with regret. If only my parents could see me now, shaking, trembling, and terrified of losing the best job I've ever had.

They'd call me a failure, and laugh while stuffing popcorn in their mouth. I could just picture my mom, long black hair flowing past her shoulders, smirking at me, and telling me something along the lines of, This wouldn't be happening if you were in medical school...

I see my coworkers glancing at me, occasionally sniggering. I can't tell if their eyes are filled with genuine concern, or enjoyment, excited for the show that's yet to come.

A shoulder pushes into my side, and I let out a growl, turning my head to the source. The person- whoever they are, turns to me, smirking, and lets a false Oops! slip from their mouth.