Prologue

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Hello Everyone! Date: 29/7/2021

I thought I would give you all the Prologue as a little sneak peek for what's to come!

Just a heads up, this book will be filled with violence, not particularly gory but violent all the same. I will give you a heads up at the beginning of chapters when there are particularly intense moments.

Enjoy

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16 Years Ago...

"Harder!" The instructor yelled from where he stood a few feet away.

I breathed deeply, schooling my furious expression and holding the throwing knife between my index finger and thumb, poised to strike the target sitting ten yards away.

My father stood next to my instructor, arms crossed, silent as always. Emotions were a foreign concept to my father when it came to business. You never knew his thoughts until it was necessary and he never spoke unless it was deemed necessary.

I brushed a loose strand of brown hair out of my face with my free hand and studied the target intensely. I released a breath as the knife left my fingers and thudded into the target a second later. Bullseye.

My chin lifted in arrogance at the perfect shot and I turned around to face the instructor. "Well done, Anastasia." My father's voice was deep and frightening, his British accent crisp.

My eyes darted around the room observing every single detail. My younger brothers ran around, playing a game of tag but a nanny ensured they steered clear of me and the targets placed on this side of the room. My mother delicately swayed the newborn wrapped in a pink blanket that lay her arms.

"Thank you father, may I go play now?" I asked, staring him dead in the eye, unafraid. Most people wouldn't dare to make eye contact with a man like Julian Love but I wasn't most people, I was his daughter.

The instructor stepped forward. "She must practice her self-defense, her technique was sloppy yesterday."

I growled, baring my teeth at the instructor, feeling a tight burst of pain from the pull in my cheek due to yesterday's 'sloppiness.' My father watched me closely, a small smile on his face.

"Stanley," My father slapped his big hand on the back of my instructor's shoulder, "let the girl have her fun, she's only ten once."

The temptation to stick my tongue out at my instructor was hard to ignore, but I stayed dormant, patiently waiting for my father's direct permission.

"Ana, walk with me." My father held out a hand, gesturing for me to take the first steps.

I held my chin high with my hands behind my back and took the lead.

He walked next to me, kneading the back of his hand. I caught sight of split skin and dried blood but I knew better than to ask where it had come from. I knew. We all knew. We were not good people.

But I quickly learned that there were worse people out there.

"Father," I said, breaking our small silence, "why do I train more than the others?"

He looked down at me. His eyes were not kind but they weren't brutal either. They were nothing. "I train you more than your brothers because you are the oldest, therefore you will be the head of the family one day."

I couldn't stop the small smile that graced my lips at the sound of that. Me, in charge of everything. No one to listen to but myself. The thought was exhilarating. "Why me though? Why not one of the boys?"

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