Page 5 of London Has Fallen

“I mean… Can you prove it was moi?” I ask sweetly. Grandpa laughs while dad glares at me, I know I need to get off this call before he bursts a blood vessel or something, so I mutter a quick goodbye and end the call, tossing my phone onto my bed as I drop face-first onto it and growl into my comforter.

What the fuck am I supposed to do for a week?

As the thought crosses my mind, I hear the sound of someone outside my door. I push up and watch as a flyer is slipped beneath my door. I debate ignoring it but then it’s not like I have anything else to do. I trudge over to the door and collect it from the floor and quickly read over it.

Party, Party, Party!

Let’s get lit and tear the roof off this bitch,

See you all at Shanks at 10pm, wear your best or wear nothing at all.

I screw my face up at the invitation to what is no doubt going to be an orgy of young teenage kids that are going to get wasted and fuck until they’re chaffing between their thighs.

“Sounds like a good time,” I say aloud as I smile to myself and dash into my closet to find an outfit for the night. I’ve never attended a party before so this will be a first for me. I needed a distraction and I guess the devil himself delivered, because normally all these fools avoid me and make sure to never mention shit like this in front of me.

London

I round the corner and frown at the sight of the line outside of the club where the invite said to be. I may not have been invited to any parties before but I’m not a fucking hermit, I do know where all the local clubs are. I just choose not to frequent them and get fucked by pin dick wannabes who think their Daddy’s money can compensate for their mediocre cocks. Most people would wait at the back of the line to be let in by the bouncers. But I’m not like most people. So I stroll to the front of the line, ignoring the sneers of all the bitches and catcalls from the thirsty guys. I pause for dramatic effect in front of both jar-head bouncers, allowing them to get their fill of me and all my exposed skin. I know I look hot and hey, if they want to stare at the goods my mama gave me I won’t stop them.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone, darlin’?” the bouncer with the shaved head asks me. I dial up the sexiness and bat my lashes playing along.

“I was invited to a party…” I let my sentence trail off as I nibble on my bottom lip, ignoring the protest of the others waiting in the line as they shout for the bouncers to allow them in. Shaved head smirks and trails his eyes up and down my body before shooting me a sexy smile that says without words, I want to fuck you! I shoot him a demure smile that promises him I’ll find him when the night is over—I have zero fucking plans of allowing this overweight piece of shit between my thighs. But I don’t say that as he lifts the red velvet rope and flicks his head, motioning for me to pass. I know without a doubt he plans to cop a feel of my ass so I make sure to spin around as I pass him and shoot him a wink, which earns me a scowl that I shrug off.

Men like to think because women dress sexy and show a little skin that they are entitled to ogle us and take what isn’t theirs. Newsflash, motherfuckers, if any one of these spineless bitches think they are touching me I will slit their fucking throats without batting a lash. The best part about being in Switzerland is that they class eighteen as the legal age unlike the US, so we are able to drink and enter clubs without a worry here. Dad was pissed when I sent him a selfie before I left the dorm, claiming that he would be on the first flight out to murder me so of course, I naturally screenshotted his message and sent it to the group chat I have with my mom, Grandpa, Aunty Nell and Uncle Chaos. I know without a doubt the four of them are going to be tearing my dad a new asshole. I may not have friends, but I do have a father I can fuck with on the daily and that is way more fun than slumber parties.

I make my way over to the bar and push my way between the waiting patrons, not giving a shit about their shouts and protests—not my fault they are big jock type guys and I’m small enough to fit through the gap. I lean my arms on the bar and place my index and thumb in my mouth whistling. The three bartenders snap their heads in my direction, I smile and wag my brows. The one closest to me rolls his eyes and steps up to serve me.

“What’ll it be?” He snaps. The guy is fucking hot, he is the most attractive man I have ever seen. His black hair and tan skin gleam even in the dim lighting of the club, his brown eyes bore into me. The little vest thing he wears looks taut and tight stretched across his muscled torso. I bite my lip drinking in the sight of him. God, he is so fucking gorgeous I have never felt this attracted to a person before. “You ordering or what?” he snaps, pulling me out of blatant ogling of him.

“Vodka and cranberry on the rocks,” I say. I fish the money out of the bodice of my dress, not missing the way his eyes track my movements as he pours the drink without looking. What a skill, I think to myself as I hand him the cash and take the drink, shooting him a wink before turning away and making my way toward the center of the club. The dance floor is packed, people are practically plastered against each other. For a party this seems a bit intense but who am I to judge, at least it isn’t dull. I watch as the girls allow random guys to come up behind them and grip their hips, grinding their cocks into their asses. They don’t protest or shove them away, they just allow them to manhandle them and submit.

I shake my head, what absolute dumbasses.

I continue to sip my drink and people watch. It’s nice to blend in and not be the center of attention for a change. I’m so used to everyone staring at me and snickering behind my back. Out of all the students here, my last name is the most well-known because of who my family is and how my father and Grandfather run the US. They now control the whole country. They are still dealing in firearms and all that shit, allowing smaller families to work under them. But, of course they pay a tax for being allowed to still operate within the country.

“Hey there, pretty lady.” I peer over my shoulder and fight the look of surprise from showing on my face. I keep my mask of indifference in place as I look between the triplets, Apollo, Adonis and Ares Argyros. The three of them look like carbon copies of the other. It’s strange. I’m used to seeing twins because of my cousins and Uncle Rook and Uncle Knight as well as Uncle Chaos and Uncle Hav… I shake the thought away not wanting to dredge up the memory of him. “You look ravishing.” I furrow my brow at the one in the middle, who the fuck says ravishing?

The three of them are dressed the same, black slacks and black button up shirts. I drop my gaze to their feet and fight the snort from breaking free, they even wear matching Tom Ford boots. I take in their appearance, brown hair, brown eyes. I know that sounds boring and plain but I can see nothing about these three is boring, their hair is styled to perfection and slicked back on their heads, and their eyes are alight with mischief and mirth. The one on the left lifts his hand and scratches at the day-old stubble on his chin and I notice the gold ring on his finger. I try to get a better look but the moment he sees what I’m staring at he drops his hand and stuffs it back in his pocket. I could tell from the first night I met these three that they would be trouble.

“What do the Three Stooges want?” I clip out as I take a sip of my drink, keeping my eyes on them over the brim of my glass.

The one on the right clutches his chest in mock hurt. “And here we thought you might be happy to see friendly faces.”

“Handsome faces you mean,” the one on the left adds, causing me to roll my eyes.

“Your faces look like smacked asses,” I reply, the mischief evaporates from their eyes and is replaced by annoyance. The one in the middle steps forward, I can already tell he is the ringleader of the three of them. He looks me up and down like he has every right to take in his fill of me, and my fist itches to rearrange his face.

“You looked better when you were pale and near tears after you killed our rabbit.” I scoff, the only tears in my eyes were of happiness that he was actually dead and I didn’t need to finish him off. My eyes narrow at the bastard as he tries to intimidate me by using his height to his advantage. He may be a foot taller than me, but that’s nothing new to me. I've always been short and learned to use that to my advantage. I close the sliver of space between us and press my body flush against his, I see some of the bravado falter from his face at my bold move.

“He was never our rabbit, he was mine and from what I hear, your daddy is not too pleased that his three precious sons failed.” The anger radiating off him is so pungent I can taste it on my tongue. The other two step forward to flank their brother. I pay them no mind, if they think they are an imposing force, then they have another thing coming. I have trained from the age of nine to fight. I can peel skin from the human body making sure to inflict as much pain as possible without killing them. I am trained in the art of knife throwing, shooting and hacking–I loath to admit my hacking skills are lacking but I’ve never been good with practical shit, I prefer to do the hands on stuff.

“You little bitch–,” I cut lefty off.

“You think coming here and trying to corner me because I’m a little girl in a dress makes you superior?” I scoff and don’t give them time to answer. “You little boys know nothing about me. If you wanted to have a dick measuring contest, you failed because out of the four of us, I have the biggest and the three of you are welcome to suck it anytime you like.” I shoulder check the one on the right on my way past, I will not allow anyone to try to intimidate me. My father has always told me that I would be underestimated in this world because of my size and lack of cock.

I find a booth in a deserted corner of the club that gives me an unobscured view of the dance floor. It intrigues me to see people freely living life and allowing themselves the joys of intoxication. I have never been drunk, I can’t allow myself to be incapacitated and have my senses dulled. Given who I am and who my family is, I am always on the defense when someone tries to get close to me or spark a conversation. No one in this world has pure intentions. After all, money is the greatest root of all evil and I come from a family that is richer than the Rockefellers.

I envy my Aunt Amelia. She is fierce, strong and refuses to submit to the demands of the family. She broke away and made a name and a life for herself. She hates that the world only knows her as Max Kingsley but at least she can be what she wants. Don’t get me wrong, one day I do want the throne and will take over after my dad steps down, but in the meantime, I would just love to travel and see the world. Experience what it’s like to not be London Murdoch. I love who I am and where I come from, don’t get me wrong, but I’m stuck at this fucking school because of who I am!

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