Noelle

I have severe anger issues.

Untreated anger issues.

Which is why I’m trying my best to hold back right now. If I end up killing him before he tells me everything I need to know, it’ll only provoke the beast inside of me, and someone is bound to suffer if that happens.

Instead of allowing the anger to surface, I inhale deeply, although I barely manage it. My left eye twitches at the sight of blood coating my feet. I’m wearing my regular white slippers, though the white color is long gone.

The knife is still pierced in his thigh, and his screams are just as loud. It nearly gives me a headache listening to his weeping and writhing. He’s chained to the ceiling, hands in the air, and on his knees before me. I didn’t think he’d bleed this much, otherwise I would’ve chosen a smaller knife.

One of my father’s men approaches me with a cigarette and a lighter. They’ve all known me since I was a child, and they are all prepared for frequent situations like this.

I light the cigarette and inhale the nicotine, feeling my lungs open and the air flow through them. It’s liberating and addicting. A dangerous combination, but it’s part of what makes it so fun.

“Now—” I take another drag of the cigarette, “what is the reason for breaking into a lady’s room in the middle of the night?”

The man in front of me is almost unrecognizable

I’m a night owl, so I wasn’t asleep when he broke the glass door of my terrace. I was freshly out of the shower with nothing but a silk bathrobe on my body.

And my slippers.

Slippers that are no longer white.

He’s an amateur, and I was able to take the gun from his hand, slam his head against the wall, and still tie a pretty bow around my waist before father’s henchmen barged in due to the noise.

And now, we’re here, an hour after the intrusion took place.

He’s bruised from being beaten for the past hour. However, these men aren’t stupid; they made sure his face was kept in the best shape possible. After all, I need him to speak.

“I wouldn’t know. You aren’t a lady.”

His words reach my ears, and I remain silent for a brief moment, thinking about how to properly handle this. The basement is soundproof, so no one will wake up even if I tear his limbs apart, but that is not enough.

“You’re right,” I agree with a nod. “A lady would’ve called the cops on you. I’m not that gracious—or merciful, for that matter. So why don’t you tell me who sent you, and we can both be on our merry way?”

He tries to laugh, but one of the men kicks him in his ribs. His laugh turns into a cough, his eyes filled with anger as he stares at me. I don’t like that stupid expression on his face. As if I’m beneath him. As if I’m less than him.

“We both know I’m dead either way.”

I lift a shoulder. “Sure. You just get to pick how you die. Painfully or extremely painfully. I’m not patient, either, so make your choice now.”

He clenches his jaw and turns his head to the side, refusing to speak. I laugh bitterly and push the cigarette in his eye, enjoying the thrill of his pathetic cries.

“Wrong choice, buddy.”

I throw the bud on the ground and turn to the men.

“Tear his limbs apart. Make it as painful as possible.”

The two men nod, and I walk out of the basement. His wails of despair follow me until I close the door, then it’s radio silent.

This is the fourth time someone has tried to kill me in the past two weeks.

The first time was when I was out doing my nightly running routine. I just came to visit my father for the holiday season and his manor is surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Two masked men jumped me with baseball bats, but, much to their dismay, I had a gun on me.

They were dead before they got the chance to be within breathing distance of me.

The other two times were more or less the same. They always tried to catch me by surprise, but I was always one step ahead of them and quicker than they thought. Their downfall was that after the first time, I expected them.

However, this is the first time they’ve managed to breach father’s over-the-top security and get this close to the manor.

I’m worried because it means the person who hired these men is someone from the De Santis family.

“Motherfuckers,” I cuss under my breath and slip out of the robe and shoes, going into the shower for the second time in an hour. That’s a personal record.

By the time I’m done washing away the stench of blood, it’s nearly four in the morning. A yawn slips through my lips as I exit the bathroom that’s connected to my quarters, only to find my father sitting on my bed with one of my books in hand, reading it carefully.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say with suspicion and walk over to him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Are you hurt?”

I snort. “Of course not. I’m used to this. But since you’re here now and didn’t wait until the morning, I get the feeling that you are worried. What’s going on?”

My father, Ray, slams the book shut, stands up, and returns it to its original place, leaving me to sweat in anticipation and anxiety.

When he turns to look at me, his stone-cold look makes the blood in my veins run cold. I’m frozen in place, unable to move under the stern gaze he’s throwing my way.

“I’m assuming you’ve already figured out who is behind these recent attacks on you.” He gives me a knowing look, to which I nod. “You can protect yourself, but I’m worried about Jane. I’m thinking of sending her to Europe, far out of their reach.”

“Do it,” I encourage. “It will be safer for her to leave now. I get the feeling that we might have a war ahead of us and I don’t want her getting hurt.”

My little sister, Jane, is only fourteen.

She’s being trained just like I was when I was her age, but she’s leaning more toward academic achievements, whereas my expertise is combat and killings. She might be the only one in the past three generations not to be involved in the dirty side of this business, and I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that.

Jane deserves better than this.

“The only safe option is Russia,” Dad mumbles in distaste. “The mafia will protect her until she comes of age, but it means taking on more clients from them for a lower price. Are you fine with that?”

I nod before he can find fault with this. “Yes. I’ll manage, don’t worry.”

“Good. Do you have a plan?”

I frown at his question.

Usually, he tells me what the plan is, and I follow his lead, executing it without a single flaw. I’m shocked that he’s asking for my opinion, so I can’t help but ask.

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’re twenty-three, Noelle. You’ll be my successor. You need to start doing your part.”

I raise a brow. “As opposed to the lazy schedule I’ve been keeping since I was seventeen?”

He gives me a pointed look. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You need to stop this before a war occurs.”

He’s right.

There’s nothing I’d like more than to kill everyone in the De Santis family, but I can’t do that right now. Just like my family, they also have too much influence and are needed. If I do it recklessly, there will be more bloodshed on my plate. Right now, my priority is making sure Jane travels and arrives in Russia without a hitch.

“Are you giving me full authority?”

He pauses, then narrows his eyes at me. “Temporarily. But beware; your actions and decisions might have consequences. Do not disappoint me, Noelle.”

I grin in response. “Have I ever?”

He leaves right after, and I lie in my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

They chose the worst time to attack. It’s the holiday season; you’d think they would be busy preparing for the festivities, especially after what they did two months ago.

One of my aunts on dad’s side, Luciella, was murdered in her hospital bed. She’d been in a bad car accident. A drunken driver had hit her, and she was slowly but surely recovering. Until someone came into her room, managing to sneak past the guards and then smother her with a pillow.

We all know who did it.

And now they’re targeting me.

During Luciella’s funeral, I wanted to rebel and put a stop to it, once and for all. My father told me it wasn’t time yet and that he wanted to mourn his sister in peace, so I allowed it.

Now, with full authority, it’s time for the Campbells to strike back.

And my target is none other than the next head of the family, Franco De Santis.

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