LYRA

1. Excursions, Power and Cleverly woven traps.

Do it. Don't think twice. Type it out here and I'll reply. 

*God how I dislike writing the first chapter of any book. It's awkward because no one knows what to expect at the beginnings but at the same time it should be captivating enough so that you guys would scroll up to chapter 2 haha.

Here goes :)

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"Number 2! Report to the basement at once!" Ughhh.

Let's start from the beginning.

I'm Lyra. Lyra Arcert Avery.

I bet you all are wondering what my middle name means. I feel you. Father claims that he looked up to some dude whose name was 'Arcert'. That's how it stuck. Whatever.

I'm 22yrs old and can't wait to get out of this piece of crap that I once used to call home. My mother, Cynthia Carter, is dead. She died giving birth to my brother when I was just a year old.

Oh, and about my father, I hate him. I wish I could blame his cruel attitude as an effect of my mother's death but I don't do lies. He has been a ruthless, manipulative man for as long as I can remember.

He is the leader of a gang. And it's not a gang where the leader is has, hot chiseled abs, treats all his family with respect and deals in puny things like drugs. Nope. This Gang is morbid. My father and a few of his men are hired by other gangsters to assassinate people.

Any normal girl would steer clear of him but I was fascinated. I wondered how a small thing such as a bullet or a dagger could permanently take away the life of a human being. I used to beg my father to take me with him on his 'excursions'. He took me only once, when I was 15 and I can safely say that it was the most exiting night of my life. Gosh, I sound psychotic. I guess those were just the effects of a fucked up family upbringing.

I was the heir to my father. Once I came of age I would take control of the business and only help the good guys in killing the bad guys. Father only cared about the money and didn't give a rat's ass as to who got killed. Well, not me.

I sighed as I got up, walked towards my father's room and knocked the door.

"Dad, you in there?"

"Come in." came the gruff voice of my father a.k.a. The dangerous and Great Aron Avery. (Yeah people actually call him that. His people, of course *eye roll*)

I opened the door and saw my dad sleeping on the bed with two very scantily dressed women beside him.

"Jesus Christ dad! What the hell!" I said wincing. This sort of thing was very common now a days and I hated it.

"Can I talk to you alone?" I asked.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?" came his annoyed reply.

I rolled my eyes. I would've ripped his head right off his body and shoved it down his ass. Mustering all the willpower I could possibly possess,

"When I'm the leader, I swear to god, this WILL NOT be allowed." I seethed. Luckily, this was the only thing that would make him stop his filthiness.

My father's greed of money can only be topped by his overwhelming and constant need of power. He hated having to obey to someone. And so he hated the fact that his precious business would no longer remain his in the future. I'm sure he spent countless sleepless nights over it. But there is no way out. He knows that and so do I.

My father abruptly stopped, as I expected him to. He got off the bed and turned to the two girls and shouted "Get the fuck out of my house!"

Girl No. 1 scrambled up and started collecting her clothes from the ground. Girl No. 2 stood up on her toes and tried to kiss my dad. He took out a gun from his pocket and shot her between the eyes. Girl No. 1 screamed and ran out of the room as fast as her barely covered ass could carry her. Then my dear father muttered "Such a waste. I hate being disobeyed." He then turned towards the door and shouted at the top of his voice "Gerald clean this mess at once!" pointing at the body.

Our 73yr old assistant ,Gerald, whose age had gifted him with a hearing sickness shuffled in and said "Right away sir." Poor Gerald used to be the punching bag of my father because of his sickness. He always kept hearing wrong words at a wrong time. It had become mine and Caleb's job to safeguard Gerald from father's wrath.

Caleb is my brother. His birth meant my mother's death. He is a shrewd guy, knows how to fight but often succumbs to flattery. My father did not waste any time in exploiting that weakness to his advantage. This is exactly how he created a rift between me and Caleb.

Father is a man in his forties. We both knew some day or other he would have to give up his leadership to one of us. According to the rules I, being the eldest, was to be given the first preference. But not willing to give up his control, my father planned to use Caleb as a puppet and make him the leader so in the end my father would still be in charge. And boy, I wasn't going to let that happen, ever.

"Ahem, I asked you a question." I finally snapped at him when he had ignored me for the past 10mins.

"Don't fucking talk back to me." he roared. I did not even flinch and kept staring at him dead in the eye. He finally sighed and said "Come to the basement at 3 tonight and I'll tell you everything you need to know." I nodded once and immediately left.

I wanted to escape from here, live a normal life where the only blood I would see would be from something as minor as a paper cut. But I also felt like it was my duty to stay, look after my father's business and make it better. That is what my mother would've told me to do.

So I decided to stay for tonight, listen to my father's plan and then decide. And that, my friends, is exactly how I fell into my father's cleverly woven trap.

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Yoohoo! You made it through the first one. *applauds*

So what did you think of it? Please tell me you'll scroll up to the next chapter because I've already posted it. *makes a cute puppy eyes face*

See ya'll soon. Pm me whenever you wanna, it'll be fun. Ok I'm now super hungry so imma head out (of my room) to eat.

Comment and vote if this is your type of book!

xx