...Family...

...The people that are chosen for you, the very ones who were supposed to have your back despite to have your , despite whatever is thrown at you, The ones who I used to think no matter what tried to drive us apart , would always stick with me at the end of the day ....

...The endless bantering, jokes that we make about each other , nasty remarks yelled across the room; all of it would not make a difference to the special bond you had with them- for the bond with your family was unbreakable, undestroyable, unruinable. For that bond was meant to last FOREVER....

...Why didn't someone tell my seven-year-old self about the destruction family could bring upon you, about the bonds that could be snapped within moments, about the pain and suffering your loved ones would torment you with....

...Why didn't anyone tell the innocent child with wide, ocean, blue eyes to stop looking for the goodness in people, for sometimes there was no good that could be sought? Why did I have to learn the hard way?...

...My mother, a petite lady with auburn brown hair and eyes that spun stories of happiness, concealing her children from all the pain that she felt every day. Someone who I had looked upon, someone who I thought would be there for me forever, someone who I didn't think would disappear on the three of us one day without a note as she just took her belongings and ran away....

...It had broken us as a family, my father, my brother and I. Long gone were the times when my father used to read me bedtime stories and take the two of us out for picnics every weekend. Instead, a scowl remained etched on his face as his demeanour changed drastically....

...Night after night he would come home staggering drunk, eyes cold and emotionless as he would unleash his fury upon me. Beating after beating I took without a complaint, though I would lock myself up in my room right after and cry myself to sleep....

...In the middle of the night, Smith would come back; exhausted from work. He would always check on me, tending to my bruises while spewing apology after apology for not stopping him....

...That was how my brother was, protective and caring. He would always push the blame upon himself but I knew he was working day and night to provide me with a better future. Or so I thought.......

A harsh knock broke me out of my reverie as Smith pushed the door open and took me by the hand roughly. Not meeting my eyes, he dragged me to my father's study room but just before he could open the brown, oak wood door, I broke out of his tight grip.

Confusion along with frustration danced in my eyes as he paused, turning back to look at me. I folded my arms across my chest, arching an

eyebrow as I signalled for him to explain his rash movements.

He still refused to meet my eyes, glancing everywhere but as a tense atmosphere surrounded us. "Just follow me okay?" Exhaustion laced his voice, halting the remark brewing at the tip of my tongue as I nodded unsurely.

Opening the door, my father sat at his desk: a smile on his face as he conversed with the guy seated across him, his back facing me. Upon seeing me, Jonathon's smile twisted into a

Sinister smirk as his eyes bore into me

Gulping nervously, I lifted my chin as I thought strode behind my brother, not letting the anxiety I was feeling to show after all showing emotions represented weakness the only thing I learnt despicable man.

It came to the heart behind my first the Corners of his mouth turning down into small frown as he stayed impassively at the man that I had yet see.

As I paused next to my brother The stranger let out a dark rambling laugh that forced me to throw a glare at him little did I expect London's most dangerous man to be to lounging my house

My lips parted in surprise, taking in his Jet black hair and suit one that stretched over his defined muscles on his biceps . His piercing green eyes held a dangerous, predatory gleam as he ranked me over before a smirk found his way on to his face . " This is the one ?" He asked to my father and it took me all my strength to not let out a gasp from my mouth .

What was chris walter , the leader of biggest gang doing in my house , talking to my father ? My father nodded , a slight dip of the head before the two men shook there hands .

"C'mon love, you're coming home with me," chris commanded authority that only the foolish dared to ignore, sending a small shiver down my spine. Unluckily for me, I had the sharpest tongue that was yet to be controlled and no fear for speaking my mind, not even to the guy who could probably kill me with

a snap of my fingers.

"The **** I am," I responded, feeling my brother stiffen next to me and within a blink of an eye, I was pressed against the wall with the barrel of a gun placed on my head. My heart began pounding slightly but I refused to let my fear show, refused to let chris have the satisfaction of having the upper hand and refused to show any sign of weakness to fuel my father's smirk.

"What did you say to me?" Chris growled, his voice holding a menacing edge that promised no safety. Our eyes still held each other, my ocean blue ones fighting with his penetrating green irises. Not a moment later, a hand clasped chris shoulder and pulled him away from me with a sharp tug.

My shoulders slumped slightly in relief as I wiped the palms of my clammy hands on my shorts. "What the hell is he saying?" I asked smith, who was still persistent on not meeting my eyes. "He is telling the truth, start packing your bags," My father commanded but I brushed it off, my disbelieving gaze still latched onto my brother.

I had never expected my father to be there for me but my brother, my heart seized slightly as tears began to well up in my eyes. I blinked them away furiously, not allowing a single tear to stream down my cheek. I would not cry. "Smith?" I asked, my voice breaking slightly at the end as his silence said enough for me.

"That's right, you have just been sold to the gang leader," chris voiced my thought,his voice holding a tone of amusement even as I found my knees locking. What the hell did my family just sign me up for?

Character aesthetic for Chris walter

TBC

"That's right, you have just been sold to the gang leader," chris voiced my thought, his voice holding a tone of amusement even as I found my knees locking. What the hell did my family just sign me up for?

Turning on my heel, I walked off after a moment of uncomfortable silence with all the confidence I could muster. Hiding how my lip quivered, how razor-sharp fear filled my eyes and how my hands trembled uncontrollably.

My own brother, the only family left that I considered family left that I considered mine, had fucking backstabbed me. It felt as if the earth, the very ground I walked on, shook beneath me as it too understood the fuel of my anger and pain.

But yet no matter how much I tried, even in the safety of my room as I sat on my bed, the tears brimmed in my eyes refused to streak down my cheeks as the mercy of crying my heart out was also violently snatched from me.

I wished it was a joke, my brother popping in and laughing at my trembling, hunched figure but alas, I knew it wasn't for life was not always kind.

The foolish who saw only the good in people, a person I once was a few years ago, were stupid to not see the day coming when they start seeing the demons concealed in the fake smiles, the whispers about you behind your back and that people change people, opening your eyes to the reality that shone upon you.

"Pack your things, I'll come get

you tomorrow," chris ordered from his position against the doorframe. I lifted my head to shoot him a venomous glare, if it wasn't for him and his stupid gang I wouldn't be here in the first place.

A flash of surprise crossed his features before it returned to his normal confident expression once again as he stared me down. I refused to be scared of him but I knew my actions chose whether I would live the next day, month or hopefully, year.

I do and will always fucking hate Chris walter with every pore of my body.

With that thought, even more of the hatred that was boiling inside of me, simmering quietly, filled my eyes, turning my irises that once resembled a calm ocean, a stormy blue. But before either of us could part our lips to spill the retorts just brewing on our tongues, someone called for chris and after throwing one last smirk, he left.

"I will never make it easy for him, living with me," I muttered quietly, vowing to myself as I started to pack my entire closet into four suitcases.

.....

The next day came far too fast for my liking, wrapped up in my blankets before my alarm sounded. Waking up with a jolt, I tumbled out of bed before shooting daggers at the blue alarm clock perched on my desk, seemingly smirking down at me.

It was only then did I realise the time, internally cursing myself. Because it was Friday, I had set my alarm clock for 7 am, forgetting to switch it off since it was evident I was not going to college today. Heck, I didn't even know if I could ever go back to the place that stirred up a mix of emotions within me, one I should hate like every other child yet I was grateful for it gave me hours of peace from my father and the messed up place I sadly call home.

Standing up, I glanced around my near barren room- all the photos, paintings and everything that gave it a lived in touch removed. The only thing signalling that this room was ever used was the unmade bed and the outfit I had laid out for today.

Tying my hip-length brown hair with the blonde highlights I had recently gotten into a messy bun, I made my way to the shower; all the while convincing myself that everything would be fine in chris's house. But as the steamy water pelted down on my body, relaxing my muscles but not helping the paranoia building up within me- I came to the conclusion that no way in hell would I live a month in the West Gang's territory and I might as well kill myself now.

But why did my thoughts flitter back to my brother and think that in some way, me committing suicide would negatively impact his life? Why did I care anymore when he didn't give two shits about my life?

Maybe it was because he had done so much for me, especially working hard to pay for my school fees and sacrificing his university degree. Maybe because deep down, I knew he wouldn't let harm fall upon me. Maybe it was because when we found out my mother left, he had to mature up so fast just so he could hold me in my arms while whispering soothing words to calm my cries.

He was going to see me off and promise me everything is going to be okay and he would live up to his word. If what I thought about my brother was true, then he was going to wrap me in one last hug before chris took me away from the house that I cried my heart out in but also weaved my dreams for a better future.

With a last sigh, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out of my room, quickly throwing on a black tank top and ripped denim shorts. I slipped on my ring, the last gift that I received from my mother and always had on me no matter the occasion.

After all her last words were to protect myself and inside this ring was a built-in, sharp knife that would have to work if I had no other choice. Grabbing the pocket knife on my bedside window, I slipped that into my pocket along with my phone as I headed downstairs.

If it wasn't for the four large suitcases that I dragged behind me, one would think I was going on a vacation and not a permanent trip to hell. At that thought, the devil himself rang the bell and I groaned in frustration, making my way to open the door.

The house held an eerie silence for a moment and I wondered whether anyone was still left at home, whether anyone bothered to see me off for the life they condemned me to. But why did I have this gut feeling that this was so much bigger than my mind was comprehending?

Still, it hurt, almost like a knife had pierced into my heart and now someone was twisting it

slowly, laughing as I slowly shrivelled up from the pain. It hurt that no one bothered to see me off, that my brother did not care enough to stay and tell me this was all a joke. That he and chris were the best of friends from school and that they were just pranking me.

But the sinking of my gut reminded me that this was all too real and that my family actually sold me out, not bothering to ponder that with this dangerous man I may not even live to see another day. But I knew that if I had a chance to, it would be if I kept my own and so I had to be confident, confident to not let the devil see the cracks in my armour and slapping plasters to keep the holes from expanding.

Making sure I masked my emotions carefully, I opened the door to reveal chris standing there, his lips dipping into a slight frown. "What took you so long?" He barked and I didn't respond, keeping my head high. He didn't own me.

Within a flurry of movements, I felt my head snap upwards and I was forced to meet his darkened irises, swirling with anger that surely matched the emotions in my own. "When I ask you something, you respond, clear?" Fury lacing his tone as his fists clenched at his sides.

"Crystal," I responded sarcastically, walking past him as I left the task of dragging my bags out to the two burly men who stood on either side of him. Another stood right in front of the door, opening it for me but keeping his eyes trained on his master behind me.

As I was sat in one of the sleek white Porsches, I couldn't help but admire the quality of the car as its tinted windows and leather seats gave it a pricey vibe. Chris took a seat in the shotgun, another man clad in a black leather suit already seated in the drivers' place.

"Three rules that you have to follow," chris told me as we sped off, not once looking back to make eye contact as his eyes were trained on the outside of the car. "No talking back, Obey my orders without a moment of hesitation and respect my men. Understood?" He demanded as if I were his slave.

"Yes, your royal highness," I answered, muttering the last three words under my breathe. He clearly heard them from the way his shoulders visibly stiffened but pretended to ignore the insult I just delivered him.

When we pulled up at the house, awe was an understatement to what I felt. Although I refused to let it show, my heart raced at the prospect of living HERE.

It was beautiful; modern yet holding an antique touch to the colossal structure. I know many houses could be more expensive and maybe even prettier than this one, but the way it stood with such grandeur made me hold back the slight gasp bubbling in my lips.

But of course, as we entered, my moment of delight had to be ruined by the one and only, chris walter

"I know I didn't blindfold you on the way here but don't even try and leave the house. There are guards posted around each exit as well as a code that allows you to open the door. And any room can be locked from the outside so be careful on what you do," He told me, his voice monotone as he surveyed me.

Of course, why didn't I think that the high walls surrounding this house in the middle of nowhere could also serve as a dungeon; especially for people like me who would hate staying here.

But the one thing that I wondered was; was this my new home or just a jail?

TBC

What do u think will this new place will be her new home or jail ?

Will she ever be able to love her family again ?

Will she be able to make friends here or everyone here will her enemy ?

Do share your reviews for this questions.!

The minute we entered Mr Asswipe stormed off to god-knows-where, leaving me alone in this daunting fortress. I slowly made a circle, my jaw dropping slightly at the regal beauty this place held, a chandelier dripping down from the ceiling and portraits hanging on the wall that my eyes skimmed over in the frantic hurry to absorb everything.

A red carpet donned the floor and a vase of flowers rested on a wooden table pushed up against the wall. I had expected the place where the famous gangster lived to be cold, ruthless and emotionless as he appeared yet the room in which I stood held warmth, laughter and kindness. He surely did not design this himself but whoever did had to be commended for their work.

"Don't be fooled, first impressions are always there to trick the eye," I heard a female voice ring through, cutting the silence efficiently with her melodious voice.

"I am not one to judge a book by its cover if that's what you presume," I responded turning around to find a girl who could be no older than me standing at a bannister. Her luscious black hair, one that I found myself envying slightly, was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and her eyes shone with a touch of amusement.

That single sparkle in her irises told me that the two of us were going to get along just fine and after scanning me through, her slight dip of the head pointed out that she shared the same thought.

"Are you the girlfriend of satan?" I asked her, my joking tone showing her I meant no harm and the laugh that escaped her told me she took no offence. I walked towards her, following her beckoning hand as a sign that she wouldn't bite.

"You mean the asshole that prides his rule over this place? Thankfully not though it is a misery that I am his sister," She told me,  glancing up to where chris had stormed to slightly warily as if the walls too told him what was being said in this house.

"Alas, one does not have the privilege

to choose their blood," I said with faked dramatics, tossing my head to the side for a pitiful effect which received a chuckle from her. I made a mental note in my head that where chris had green eyes, his sister's was

a beautiful grey.

"I like you, Hazel right?" She asked, reminding me that I was not here to make friends in this house full of enemies. But I guess one ally couldn't hurt right? I nodded my head, shaking her outstretched hand before we proceeded to walk up the stairs.

"I'm Isabella Walter but you can call me Izzy," She declared before looping her hand in mine and dragging me up the stairs. My lips turned up slightly at the beginning of a smile, that was soon wiped off as we passed an office where, through the windows, Chris was sitting down in front of a computer.

My heels dug into a halt and I removed my hand from Izzy's embrace to tuck them in my pockets, keeping up the pace with her just fine on my own. Her lips were dipped into a small frown but she nodded her head in understanding when she realised where my gaze had flitted off to.

When we had successfully passed the door and were away from hearing distance, she spoke up, "I really am sorry for my my brother's behaviour I told him, repeatedly, that snatching you from your family was a bad idea. But when it comes to business, no one can dissuade his mind. I tried, really."

I mulled over what she said for a moment. sensing the genuine tone in her voice. "I... I don't blame you, I mean yesterday I witnessed how my brother too was driven by business so much that it is more important to him than the life of his sister."

We had stopped outside a door and I presumed this was Isabelle's destination that she had in mind. She reached forward and opened it, revealing a beautiful room.

There was a king sized bed, a vanity desk, a wardrobe and another door which led to a joint bathroom. My suitcases were already pressed against the side of a room, near the edge of a beautifully woven mat. The rooms were painted a faint beige and a chandelier hung, though not in use yet the room remain lit with the help of the window on the right side, opposite to where I stood.

Though pink was not my favourite colour and it was evident in the splashes here and there, it did not overwhelm the room and instead helped to brighten it up. In a nutshell, the room was breathtakingly gorgeous and better than what I had back in my old house.

I turned to Isabelle, who stood at the edge of the door, a few steps away from where I had wandered off to. She had a smile on her face as she watched me and let out a slight chuckle at my awe-struck expression.

"I had hoped you would like this, I designed it myself," She prided and I nodded my head with a slight dip of my chin, still entranced by the fact that this room was going to be where I resided.

If I could just forget the whole I had been brought here against my will by a man anyone would piss their pants if they crossed, I would have actually enjoyed living here. But sadly, not all dreams were meant to come through.

"I'm going to leave you to unpack and will be back in two hours to retrieve you for dinner. Chris hates being tardy to I would encourage you to be changed by the time I come," Came Izzy's voice followed by the click of the door as it was shut behind her.

I took my time in unpacking all my belongings into the space provided, glancing at the clock to realise that an hour and forty five minutes had flown by easily. Folding up my foldable suitcases and placing them in the corner of the room, I took a glance at myself in the mirror. Immediately, I cringed at what I saw in my reflection.

The messy bun that I had tied my hair into in the morning had come loose and locks of my hair were escaping its previous hold. The sleeves of the long sleeve shirt I had thrown on were rolled up amidst my unpacking and a layer of sweat coated my forehead.

Letting out a slight sigh, I retrieved what I deemed as a suitable outfit for dinner stylish yet comfortable pair of grey sweatpants and a white short-sleeve top. I had just tied my hair up into a ponytail as a knock resounded and grabbed a denim jacket. It was currently autumn, nearing winter here and the temperature was forever fluctuating.

I swung open the door just as the person standing in front poised to knock again.

What surprised me though was that it was Chris and not Isabella. His eyes were on his watch, foot tapping impatiently as he waited for me.

Of course, despite my hatred for him, I wasn't blind. Chris was the rough kind of hot, with piercings and what not. It was no surprise that he turned heads whenever he walked because matched with the captivating aura he held, he was a sight for sore eyes. Yet I knew that me falling for him after all he's done was an impossible thing.

He was dressed in a casual top and jeans and I was slightly relieved because if he was in a suit I would be sorely out of place. Wearing a suit to dine at home, what were you thinking Hazel, I chided myself internally. Though, he had worn a suit to retrieve me so who knew what he was like...

The minute I had stepped out of my room, he walked off, long strides down the hallway. I tutted my tongue as I followed him, at least he could have the courtesy to wait. Though as I finally matched his pace as we neared the stairs, my eyes caught onto his right arms, the upper part of which was covered in tattoos.

Typical, I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't stop the slight flutter of my heart at the sight of it. Since young, tattoos were my weak spot when it came to guys. But not this man, I reminded myself. He had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon.

The dining room, as I expected, was beautiful as well. Though the table, capable of seating roughly twenty people, was quite big for the three of us. What was he, a gangster or a prince? Though the table wasn't laid for anyone and chris strode right past to the kitchen.

Isabella was cooking up a meal with a frown on her face, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. Though when she saw us, a smile flitted across her face and she waved us over. As I neared her, I saw she was cooking pasta.

I hadn't had that in a very long time, I thought to myself as my mouth watered. Before all of this, I worked at a gym. A fighting gym, to be exact, where I trained people for matches. But in order to do so, I had to be fit myself and hence the strict diet that I re-inforced on myself.

Though I have no clue if I can go back to my job now that I am here and I don't think it would harm to have a dish of pasta just once, especially seeing as it was already made.

There was a smaller table in the kitchen, for four, and three set mats were laid out. Chris took the one chair where he sat alone on one side, typing away on his phone busily, as I went to help Isabella.

She was nearly done by the time I went to her side and so I brought the three plates over to her to get plated. She smiled gratefully before giving us generous heaps of food, taking two plates and leaving me to take my own.

I sat down next to her and we ate in comfortable silence, though chris eyes remained glued to his screen. He could do whatever he wanted for all I care, it's not like I wanted to strike up a conversation with him either.

He was the reason for the change in my lifestyle, one that I would happily trade to continue living how I was. It wasn't that I had a fabulous life before all of this but the sole factor alone that I had no say in anything to do with MY life, made me slightly on the edge.

What happens if I run away?

CHARACTER AESTHETIC FOR HAZEL