Page 1 of Havoc

Prologue

The amber liquid tipped over the edge of the crystal before the glass smashed to the floor. I looked down at his body, writhing in agony as the poison coursed through him. His eyes were on me as his body went through what I could only assume were excruciating convulsions. Moving to his side, I crouched down, and made sure he was looking up at me. I wanted him to see what I’d done.

“You know…this is your fault,” I said in a calm voice. One I had rehearsed over the last couple of years since I’d made this my plan. Since I’d resolved to kill him, I had filled my days and nights with ways in which I could do it. I’d, of course, gone with my favourite way, and the most painful, poison. This special concoction I’d put in his whiskey was a potent and lethal one, but I’d made it so it would last as long as possible.

He deserved it.

“W-wh-why?” he asked through sweaty, hoarse gasps.

“Well, I think you already know the reason for that,” I told him honestly. “The only reason I’m still here watching you twitch is because I wanted you to know it was me. I was the one who bested you. Now, over the next two minutes give or take, you’re going to feel the most excruciating pain you could imagine while your body starts to shut down, but your brain will be last. You’ll feel and know everything that’s going on.”

“F-fuc-fuck you,” he spat at me. I could see the bubbles start to form in the corners of his mouth, red and white coloured ones.

“Now, before you expire, I want you to know that this crime family is mine now, just as you always feared. If only you’d had the foresight to allow me to learn from you, you could have had a great ally. Like I said, all your fault.”

I stood up and pulled at the tie around my neck, loosening it. Gideon’s party had been horrendous to witness, and although he’d been surprised by my entrance, he had hidden it well amongst his friends, and many followers. I’d put on a pin-striped suit tailored for me, of course, but it was a secret fuck you to him, and he knew it. He loved a good pin-striped suit. He’d embraced me, forcefully, and hadn’t said a word as I hugged him back. Every inch of my body hated the contact with him.

The man who had condemned me to die by sending me to another country to be hospitalized in an asylum “off the books”. The man who had thought he’d taken care of the problem.

When the party was dying down, he’d told me to come to his office, possibly to try and off me himself, but when we arrived here, he offered me a drink. Intriguing, but not unalike him to try and make an enemy a friend. He thought he was so cool, so refined and charming that I would allow him to live after what he did to me.

Foolish man.

Obviously, he’d never heard of a woman scorned.

I yanked the suit from my body and smoothed out my deep red, skintight dress and re-applied my red lipstick. Flicking my bold, curly hair out over my shoulders, I looked back at him as the foam had started to form on his lips. Opening the office door, I walked out, my stiletto heels clicking on the marble floor, as I sashayed my way to my new life.

I was going to take over the Killen crime family and watch as all the men who had treated me as if I were nothing all my life trembled and begged me on their knees. I would be the goddamn Queen of this town, maybe even this country, and everyone was going to fear me.

I would be ruthless, more so than he ever fucking was.

And this town would be mine.

Pulling the vial of poison from my bra, I smiled before I threw it over my shoulder, listening for the smash of glass before I turned the corner of the hallway.

A huge painted portrait of Gideon hung on the wall heading into the main part of the house, pin-striped suit and that ridiculous cane in his hand. I smiled, knowing he was dead.

And I’d killed him.

Goodbye, Daddy.

Chapter One

Presley

A Week Later

Tears.

They usually come so easily at funerals, yet I couldn’t seem to muster a single moist eye. It didn’t go unnoticed by others, but hell, they all knew he’d done something to me for me to disappear for ten years. I sat next to my mother, Naomi, who also was very suspicious of why I had returned. Still, for now, she sobbed into her tissues, ruining her mascara and eyeliner, putting on a show for everyone around us.

Good show, mother.

When I had turned up a week ago, she hadn’t smiled once, nor had she tried to be nice to me. It had been her to find my father’s body in his office, but there hadn’t been a scream, nor a call to the police. Instead, I’d watched as she rifled through his desk drawers frantically, while his dead eyes looked on. I’d snuck into the office and sat in the chair opposite her. Fear evident as she stopped rifling, she was scared.

She’s known it had been me, but there was no way they’d arrest me. She could never rat out one of her own and she knew it.

As she dribbled on about how they were so happy, playing the grieving widow with as much drama and flare as an actor on a soap, I looked around to see who had shown up. There were a lot of new faces, as well as a lot of old faces. And then there was Sonora.

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