Page 1 of Vicious Vines

Prologue

As I stand in what was formerly known as my father's study, I bring the heavy crystal glass to my mouth, feeling the whiskey pass across lips painted as crimson as my nails.

This may have been my father's domain just a few weeks ago, but it looks nothing like it now. I had it ripped back to the studs after the fire, new walls and floor installed. I wanted nothing to do with the man that kept me locked inside my own house like a prisoner for the first twenty-four years of my life.

Now instead of the room suffocating in gold and velvet, it is all sleek lines and dark wood, accented with walls the dark navy of an angry sea. My heels give the most delicious click against the now wooden floor, with nothing softening the fact that I am a woman in a place where historically no woman has stood.

The sound of shuffling has me hiding a smile behind my mask of indifference. The men gathered in this room are impatient for me to speak and get on with it. I know they are like my father. They don't think a woman should lead the O'Neil family. They don't think a woman should lead at all.

Too bad for them, I take pleasure in watching them squirm. I enjoy knowing that they hate every second that they have to wait for me to give them their orders.

After all, I am a woman and to them, taking commands from me is beyond a joke. It goes against the nature of things.

But it is my head currently wearing the crown, and it is my rule they have to abide by.

And my first order of business? Every man in this room is going to die.

Chapter 1

Peering through the scope of my gun, I check my target again before breathing in the fragrance of pine and crisp wind. Letting my breath slowly flutter out, I fire.

I know what I'll see before I even glance out at the target Ethan set up earlier today on the outskirts of the forest around my home.

A kill shot.

Shooting is close to breathing for me, something I've been doing in secret for half of my life. The only thing that feels more natural? Using knives.

"We'll have to wrap up soon if we're going to make it to the meeting on time." Ethan's voice comes from beside me, like coarse sand rubbed over my skin.

There was a time when I craved that voice, longed to hear it whisper to me in the dark. But that was a long time ago.

As a child, I thought I was a princess, always in dresses and doted on. It wasn't until I approached adolescence that I begin to realize the differences in how folks treated my brother, Finn, and I. Our father took Finn hunting, taught him how to fight and use a gun and knife. When I asked for the same, Sean laughed at me. The second time I asked, he backhanded me and I tasted the copper tang of blood for the first time.

I began to sneak out of the house after that, usually at night when everyone was asleep. I would go into the woods with the knives stolen from Finn's bedroom and try throwing them at tree trunks.

One night, Ethan caught me. He was a young guard employed by my father, two years my older than my fifteen years. Ethan was the one that taught me how to fight and shoot. He was also the man I lost my virginity to. I thought I was in love with him then, that he was the white knight that was going to save me from being the princess in the tower. He was handsome, all caramel skin and umber eyes, with broad shoulders that could scoop me up and hold me tight. But as the years wore on, I realized I wasn't the only one trapped by these walls. Ethan was shackled just as much as I was, and my love for him was just a childhood wish that things could be different.

I still trust him, and I know he has my back, but now I understand the black and white truth. Ethan couldn't free me. He couldn't even free himself. The only way for me to have my freedom was to seize it with bloodshed by snatching the crown from my father's grasp.

I pack up my gear, knowing we have to get back to the house and I'll need to change into something more suitable than my training attire, all black with hidden pockets and built-in straps for my knives and guns. Wearing weapons makes folks nervous around me.

"I talked to your brother today," Ethan says while walking beside me, the last of the fallen autumn leaves crunching under our boots

"How is he doing?"

"Still weak from the blood infection, although he'll never admit it. But he looks better. He's gained some of the weight he lost."

"Good. He needs to keep resting so he can heal."

Ethan tosses a sideways glance in my direction. "And buy you some more time before all those sycophants waiting for you at the manor demand his return?"

I scoff. "You and I both know Finn isn't going to come back. He's done."

"He was done a long time ago."

Finn was being groomed by our father to take over the O'Neils. It always pissed me off that even though I was the oldest, I was not worthy of the crown. Instead, I was kept locked away in my tower room, a virginal mafia princess to be sold off to the highest bidder at any moment. A threat that always loomed to keep me small and frightened. In my place.

As we head back down the winding path through the forest towards the O'Neil manor, my mind wanders to everything that's brought me here to this point. It's been weeks since the transition and it still doesn't feel real. It still doesn't feel like the crown is mine.

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