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QUEEN OF HELL

Introduction

Quote:

"Life is ruthless before assholes.

Life is beautiful before loved ones."

— Unknown

⸻——————————————————

Author's POV

       A black car parked on a deserted ground.      Four men were kneeling on the ground, bruised and trembling.

     Guards surrounded them.

    "Please... spare us,"

one of the men begged.

     A figure sat on the car with a gun in one hand and a cigarette in her mouth.

She blew out the smoke and flicked the cigarette away.

    Jumping down from the car, she walked toward the men who were kneeling.

Her face wasn't visible in the darkness, but her figure and style alone could scare the hell out of people.

She laughed coldly.

"Spare youuuu?" she mocked.

"Poor fellows! Do you even know who I am?"

She started playing with her gun as she asked them.

"We don't know you! And why did you kidnap us?" one of them stammered.

     She smirked hearing that.

"Jason, they don't even know why I targeted them," she said, glancing at the tall, blonde guy standing beside her.

Jason smiled slightly at her words.

  She tilted her head and tossed the gun to Jason.

He caught it just in time.

Then, she pulled out a card from her pocket — a Queen card.

She showed it to them.

"Look. Now you've seen it..."

She then used a quick card trick and made it disappear.

"...And now you don't."

"Shoot."

She commanded.

Jason nodded.

The guards fired.

A drop of blood splashed onto her face.

Jason glared at the guards for being messy, but she simply smirked and wiped the blood off with a towel.

Her name is Angel.

Only Angel.

But her character? That of a demon.

Jason — her best friend, partner-in-crime, and loyal assistant.

     Angel is the CEO of AR Entrepreneur, the world's largest company.

          Murdering is just a part of her life.

The men she killed tonight had raped a little girl and escaped the law without any punishment.

They had powerful hands in the business world — but Angel didn't care.

In her life, she makes the rules.

Whatever she does becomes LAW.

No one can stop this devil...!!

Character aesthetics

    ANGEL RHYS

*Businesses women

*CEO OF AR GROUPS

Mother : Meera Rhys

Father : Nichol Rhys

Uncle : Rafael Rhys (doctor)(young brother of Nichol)

Aunty:Mariana Rhys (doctor)

Nephew:Michael Rhys (model)

Age :24yrs

Sep-8

JASON REY

*Best friend of Angel

ADITIYA VIJAY ROY

*King of India

*Obsessed with his girl angel

*An undercover mafia in London

*Biggest business man in india

Angel & Aditya

The powerful couple

Slow burn romance .…

Side characters

MICHEL RAFEL RHYS

* young model

* childish and troublemaker

*20 years old

The only son of Rafael and Mariana

TIA JASE

*19 years old

* Angel's best friend's younger sister

*she is currently a medical student

TIA & MICHEL

The troublemaker couple*chuckles*

...Author’s Note...

Hey there! I’m Ichu, the writer behind this story.

This is an original work, created from my heart and imagination. Every scene, character, and emotion you read here is mine—and this story is currently being published only on Wattpad.

Please do not copy, repost, or use any part of this story without my permission.

Your support, reads, and love mean the world to me—thank you for being part of this journey.

– With love,

Ichu

Chapter 1

ANGEL'S POV

"Angel, where did you sneak off to late last night?"

Mother came rushing toward me, her face full of worry.

"Maa, slow down!"

"I just went out for a walk. Why aren't you asleep? You need good rest, yaar."

I pulled her into a hug and gently made her sit on the nearby couch.

'To my family, I am a sweet angel.

To the world, I am a demon.'

"How can I sleep? You reckless girl — you only know how to make me worry!"

She pressed her hand against her forehead, exasperated.

I chuckled at her adorable frustration.

Dad watched the scene unfold, smiling at his wife's reaction.

"Hey Dad, take your wife and make her sleep before she drives me crazy," I teased.

Dad chuckled, "Come on, babe. Our daughter is tired. Let her freshen up and sleep."

Mom glanced at him but finally relented.

"Fine, but eat your food before you sleep. You're so skinny!"

"Aree Maa, main khaaunga, tum chalo,"

(Yo Mom, you go and sleep, I'll eat later.)

I replied in her mother tongue — she's Indian, and my father is Spanish.

   I made my way to my room, only to find my cousin brother standing outside the door.

I locked eyes with him.

"¿Sabes que estás haciendo que la tía se preocupe tanto?"

(You know you're making aunty worry so much.)

  I sighed deeply. "I know... but how can I sit and watch those assholes living freely?"

   He fell silent, then turned and walked away toward his room downstairs.

    I stepped inside my room, slipped off my jacket, and tossed it into the washing machine — the scent of blood clinging to it was unmistakable.

I retrieved the gun from my pocket and locked it safely in my drawer.

Grabbing my pajamas, I headed to the bathroom.

   I turned on the shower, feeling the cool water cascade over my skin, washing away the remnants of the night.

   After a long, cold shower, I stepped out.

I let my long hair down, the strands falling in waves past my waist.

Throwing on an oversized T-shirt and shorts, I collapsed onto my bed.

   I stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Turning to my side, I noticed something on my pillow — a black rose.

   At first, I admired its rare beauty — then reality hit me.

"WTF!!"

      I screamed instinctively, immediately clapping my hand over my mouth.

I quickly reminded myself — my room was completely soundproof.

Thank God.

"Where the hell did this come from?"

   Without wasting a second, I rushed to my office, grabbed my laptop, and checked the CCTV footage.

   No one had entered my room.

   I clenched my jaw tightly and returned to my room.

    Picking up the flower, I examined it closely.

A black rose.

   Extremely rare — seen only in India, in the Royal Mansion of the Rao Family.

   The Royal Family of India.

The most powerful business family in the world — second only to ours.

"How in the world did this get here?"

I placed the black rose carefully on my desk, my mind spiraling into a thousand questions.

    Eventually, exhaustion claimed me.

I drifted into sleep, my mind still haunted by the mystery.

Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S POV

MORNING — 5 AM

    The alarm was ringing on one side.

She woke up, turned it off, and freshened up.

     Heading to her closet, she pulled out baggy pants and a half T-shirt, then made her way to the gym room.

     She grabbed her boxing gloves, slipped them on, and started hitting the punching bag — her mind clouded with confusing thoughts.

       After an hour of relentless punching, she began panting heavily.

     Her father stood silently nearby, watching his daughter with a proud yet concerned gaze.

  With a final, powerful punch, she broke the bag — sand spilled out, making a mess on the floor.

       "Oh shit!!" she backed up in shock.

"Well done," her father applauded.

She hadn't even noticed he had been standing there all along.

  She never kept her defensive senses up around her family.

"Woah, you startled me, Dad!! Good morning!"

He smiled warmly. "Morning."

"I want to talk to you, Angel."

She removed the boxing gloves from her hands and placed them aside.

"What is it, Dad?"

She grabbed a towel and started wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"Did you... go out for a murder last night?"

She was drinking water when she heard that.

She immediately put the bottle down and burst into a childish laugh.

"Dad, meh tumhara angel hu, Satan nahi hei."

(Dad, I'm your angel, not a devil!)

"Don't say it in Hindi — I know exactly what you mean," he replied, crossing his arms.

"Ohhh? And what did I mean, Dad? You don't like Mum's language, do you?" she teased.

"Not much," he admitted, shrugging.

"Oww, what the hell!"

"Baby!"

It was Angel's mom, who had smacked Dad playfully from behind.

"Tumko mera basha pasand nahi hei, mujhe bhi tumhara basha pasand nahi!"

(You don't like my language? I don't like yours either!)

Angel chuckled watching them argue, full of love and mischief.

"Both of youuu, stop arguing!" she laughed.

Her mother handed her a cup of coffee.

"Angel, go freshen up. Breakfast is getting ready."

She nodded, taking a sip of the coffee before heading back to her room.

      After a refreshing shower, she slipped into her formal black and cream attire.

     Her long hair cascaded down her back, captivating anyone who would lay eyes on her.

    Her honey-brown eyes shimmered with life, and her flawless curves could make any man fall for her without a second thought.

ANGEL'S POV

    I pulled my hair into a sleek high ponytail and slipped my gun into my pocket, the weight of it reassuring.

My gaze lingered on the table, where the black rose lay—its dark petals stark against the tablecloth.

A symbol of mystery, power, and maybe a warning.

I took the rose, gently adjusting it into my hair, then fastened my watch, syncing it to my phone with practiced ease.

Time was always moving, and I never let it slip away.

  I descended the stairs with purpose.

The dining room was calm, almost too calm, with everyone seated at the table, servants moving quietly in the background.

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