Cloaks, daggers and lies.

PROLOGUE

Disclaimer: This book is a figment of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or events is entirely coincidental.

Plagiarism is a penal offence. I know this book might probably be crappy and all, but it's still my hard work, so no copying :)

WARNING⚠ This book contains strong language and minor depictions of violence.

Copyright©NoellaPearl2020

Three months earlier
___________________________

The volume of the music was frightening, of course that might have something to do with what Darren made me swallow, the blue lighting was also not helping and I felt like puking my guts out, I made myself stand and Darren immediately did the same.

"Where ya goin' Mel?" He drawled.

He was drunk, somewhere to my left I heard a loud smashing sound, two teenagers I didn't recognise had just destroyed an antique vase worth thousands, and I realized how bad an idea it was to have this party here, my parents were definitely going to kill me this time for throwing another party at their precious multi-million dollar mansion.

"Get lost Darren," I groaned pushing him off me, it wasn't too difficult as he was pissed as a newt, I needed somewhere calm, because right now I had a feeling my head was going to explode.

"Take your slimy man whore hands off of her and go find some other bitch to screw," my friend Julia said, smirking at him, I knew she was also drunk because she was sitting on her ex's legs and letting him run his hands all over her.

"Shut the fuck up, Julia," he snapped.

Blinking rapidly I turned my back on their mindless bickering and tried to find the way up to my room for a little silence, between the pounding in my head and the sweating, gyrating, packed bodies of high schoolers on the dance floor, it proved to be a nearly impossible task, but I managed to reach the grand stairway, and began the excruciating journey up the flight of stairs, I've always complained to my parents about the length of the stairs, unsurprisingly they ignored me, and in my drunken state it was like trying to scale up mount everest.

I eventually made it to my bedroom, kicking the door open, my eyes met a frightening sight, on my king sized bed, football captain and biggest womanizer at my private school, Davis Lance, was lying naked with two other very naked girls above him, I'd rather not explain the situation in details, anyway they had no idea someone just walked in on them and not at all quietly, either that or they didn't care.

I wasn't known for my tolerance, grabbing a purple throw pillow from a cream vintage couch, I sucked in a breath.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM," I screamed, furiously hitting one of the girls with the pillow, "OUT NOW."

Both girls shrieked and leapt from the bed making a wild dive for their discarded clothing, while I took one of the feather pillows on my bed and began an assault on a very shocked Davis Lance.

"GET OUT OF MY BED BEFORE I MAUL YOU TO DEATH, LANCE," I bellowed.

He must have sensed I was in a really bad mood because he leapt up at once, jumped into his briefs and promptly left with his clothes in his hand.

As soon as he had shut the door, I took hold of the covers and sheet and tugged them away from the bed, then I curled up on the bare mattress squeezing my eyes shut and trying to keep the tears at bay, but a few slipped out, I missed him, I missed him so fucking much it hurt, I hated my parents, I hated my life, but most of all I hated Cameron's killer, Irving Amundsen, say what he might I knew it was his fault Cameron died, and why our family, was trying to hide behind this picture of a perfect family, the perfect father, the perfect mother, the perfect daughter, the perfect son, it was all a facade.

The truth, the real truth, was as ugly and bitter as we genuinely were.

Downstairs the music, muffled because of my closed door, suddenly seized playing, I sat up uncertainly, I could hear the confused drone of voices coming from the party, did someone break the home theatre system? I got to my feet but ended up slipping on my heels, and twisting my left foot in an awkward angle.

I hissed in pain and pulled the shoes off, wincing I reached down and tried to soothe the ache on my ankle, and that's when I felt it.

Someone was watching me.

I straightened up slowly, the hairs on the back of my neck on end, and glanced around my bedroom, it looked the same as ever, the modern fireplace I can't remember ever using, the white sturdy desk and chair facing the glass doors of the balcony, a door adjacent that leading to a walk-in closet, and another door leading to a bathroom, I caught my reflection on a classic mirror that once belonged to my great grandmother, a few strands of strawberry blond hair was stuck to my cheek, and my bottle green eyes were bright, nothing was out of place everything was normal, too normal.

And then I heard a gunshot.

It came from downstairs, and for a split second there was utter silence, then someone gave a heart lurching scream, and all hell broke loose.

A|N

And so the journey begins...

Don't hesitate to give me your honest opinion in the comments section, and please support me by tapping the little star shaped button.
PS, I'm still too lazy to edit, so this is the first draft.
~pearl~