Chapter 2: Chapter one
Nesrin Lopes
The world is a revolving place and the fate and destinies of the inhabitants are faithful echoes to it.
I'm in an overly furnished car. Zooming past the dirty neighborhood I lived in to an unknown destination.
My eyes are watery and my chest suffers of the familiar sensation of worthlessness.
It aches of the pain knowing my own father just sold off to people I've never seen nor had anything to do with.
All because of money and fame.
I knew I was a nuisance to him and he detested my entire existence.
I had in mind that I was a fool and curse to him.
A good for nothing being.
And I would never forget I'm the worst thing that has ever happened to him.
I've been compared not once and not twice, to a corpse by the man I was made to believe was my father.
I knew I was a liability to him for rejecting the ugly order of me being a whore and a night time club stripper to bring money home to him.
I have the knowledge of all these but it never crossed my twisted mind that I would be handed over to a complete stranger in exchange of dollar bil
Thinking back to when my father broke the news to all of us in front of my buyer, rejection sinks to the bottom of my guts.
I saw the pity on Shawn's face.
He was the only one out of ten siblings to treat me as though I was human.
And it seems like the news about my father selling me was just not entertaining to him.
He stood up from his chair and left.
What else would he have done?
No one can oppose what Don Rees proposes.
I feel like a knife is being grazed across my heart when I remember the few good times I had with him, which were the only and probably last I will be having before I die.
I stifle my breath to smother the thick sobs rising in my chest to avoid being heard.
The nerve at the side of my head is practically breathing as aches slice through my skull.
Sam - my eldest brother had slammed my head into the wall just last nighr for mistakenly meeting his gaze.
I forgot the rules.
Tears cloud my eyes and I forcefully blink them back.
I glance around at the people I'm in the same car with.
The men are huge and intimidating.
The women don't talk much.
I'm in the last passenger's seat in this car. Secluded.
I look out the window and see Cara's house at a distance.
Guilt surges briefly through me.
She doesn't know where I'm headed.
I didn't pass any information to her.
How else would I have told her when my brother had smashed my phone.
I notice her standing outside and I try to move out of view but she sights me.
She remains still as she gazes at the moving figure of our car as we zoom past.
I turn to her through the back window and manage to wave.
She doesn't return it.
Suddenly she covers her face and runs inside.
A wave of incessant pain tears through my heart as I watch her figure retreating into their house.
A terrible feeling grasps me, remembering the friendship pact we made to each other.
"Never shall we part, till death"
The words torture are now torture to me for I know I've broken it.
My mind wanders back to the day we became best friends.
The promises that were made.
The tears that were shed.
For we finally found someone that went through the same kind of pain we did.
The wails and the sobs keep ringing my head.
I imagine her as she cries right now and a knife digs through my already tender heart.
We made a promise to each other to help ourselves survive the storm together and come out alive.
But now I've added to the drowning weight of pain on her.
I fight the urge of opening this door and running after her.
To once again see her angelic face.
Tell her it's all a lie and wipe the tears from her delicate face and share another hug with her.
But I remain still.
Even to me it all seems so unreal and dream-like.
But something deep inside of me tells me I should stop giving myself false hopes and face the stark reality before me.
I've left my best and only friend. Cara.
I suck in another deep breath feeling as guilty as ever and a sharp pain pierces my lungs and spreads through my entire body.
The result the several beatings I've received from the men I lived with.
I slowly let the breath back into the air and stretch my aching back on the seat and I feel overly comfortable.
Those sleepless nights of being hunched over and grinding chunks of solid cocaine to powder under the watchfulness of a CCtv camera has really taken a toll on me.
On a daily basis, when I get abused I think and wallow in the depthless ocean of thoughts about the mysterious death of my mother - my only savior.
I snap my eyes shut to keep myself from screaming as the vile images return.
When my mother was still alive no one dropped a finger on me.
I get possibly anything I want aside from the freedom to associate with other people and I got used to.
But since her death, I have come to terms that Nesrin Lopes amounts to no worth - not to mention love - to the people that were supposed to be her family.
It's just as though they were laying in patient wait for my mother's demise so they could tear down on me like they've always wanted.
Tears threaten to build up but I struggle to keep it together and focus.
Focus on the new life I'm about to enter.
Maybe I'll finally find true happiness again.
I take a deep breath. Another and relax.
.
.
.
Zack Laurel
You cannot fight the battle of wealth and dominance without piling up adversaries against you.
Impossible.
Let alone when your family tops the chart of prominent and respected Mafia Unions in the particular city of Alignton.
Over time my father has acquired hostages from many families that don't comply or play funny to an already signed deal.
They're baits to attract the defaulter and bring him down for his sins.
We have battalions of rivals skimming everything corner, monitoring every inch and step we make just to rescue our captives who have become our slaves from our grip.
I'm looking outside the of the window that overlooks the large dungeon where my father keeps and punishes slaves that leave his rules broken and i sense a run away in progress.
I immediately contact Lampard - the chief guard and the only level headed servant I can trust.
"Lamp, do you notice anything odd going on around the backyard?"
I say calmly.
"No sir. Is there any problem?"
"I can hear unusual noises back there. Go find out what's going on."
"Yes master" he affirms and I cut the call.
I move into my bedroom and pull out a Walther PPQ M2 from my closet and walk back to the window.
I shift the window wide enough to contain the muzzle of the gun and I bend my head into position, where my eyes align with the aimer.
My father always told us to be ready for situations like this and I don't take chances.
Especially in situations like this.
I see Lampard coming out of the main building and walking towards the dungeon with a gun its holster.
He unlocks the gates and jolts them open.
He walks in an angered position.
"Sit down everyone!"
I hear his voice reverb from inside and a stampede follows.
Harsh sounds of radical gunshots fill the air.
Two men run out and I acquire an aim on them.
I put a bullet to the leg of one of them and he falls to the ground with a loud thud struggling with the pain.
The other makes a run for it, knowing not where the bullet came from.
I align my aim on him and bring him down with another bullet to his back.
He hits the ground hard, cursing out loud.
I hear several firings of gun from inside the dungeon and I wait for more to come out.
Craig - my former personal servant- comes running through the door behind me.
"Sir! Sir! I think we're under attack. There are multiple gunshots raging from the backya-
He stops himself from completing his statement as he sights me.
"What are you doing sir!"
He inquires and I hear his erratic breathing.
"You can guess"
I state simply as I gun down another running figure of a man and he stumbles to the ground wincing as he clamps his left shoulder.
Lampard walks out the dungeon and throws to the side a bundle of axes and drags the three men behind him by their shirts as they growl wildly and he hurls them through the gate opening.
Satisfaction seeps into my bones as he jolts the gates shut and clicks the lock closed.
He carries the axes and retreats back to the main building.
I bring my gun down from the window and hold it close to my side as I walk past the surprised figure of Craig.
Little things scare people.
I meet Lampard coming up on the stairs with the axes.
"Sir! They were truly planning a getaway. They were trying to break down the back wall and perform a runner from there." He informs me by running his free hand over the axes.
I narrow my eyes to him.
"You weren't vigilant enough Lamp"
I say brandishing the gun at him.
He immediately falls to one knee before me.
"I'm dead sorry master. I pledge to you that will never happen again" he assures me.
"Very well then I'll cut you a slack for your diligence."
I say neutrally.
"I'm grateful sir" he bows as he takes a rise.
"And you tell the others to better do their job clean" I say, taking a step backward.
"Okay sir. But there's a bit of a problem" he tells me and I pause.
"What do you mean?"
"The back wall of the dungeon has been damaged due to the multiple impact made on it by these axes"
"It now has a lot of cracks and it's extremely weak"
My brows furrow as he completes his statement.
"That's going to cost money now"
I say, thinking for a moment.
"Alright. I'll tell that to my father when he gets back" I tell him and he nods in agreement.
"But for now gather a good number of the guards to surround that dungeon. Any silly movement, spring into action"
I say.
"We'll do just that sir." he reassures and walk to my bedroom.
I secure my gun back to its place and take a quick impulsive stop at the mirror.
I tip my head to the side and a smirk tugs at the end of my petite lips.
My deep emerald eyes stare back at my frame and my hands are hidden in the pocket of my dark blue trousers.
I stroke the sharp edges of my jaw-line and a chuckle falls from my lips.
I look like a mess.
My hair is in the ups and downs of its black nature.
I run a palm over it and when I bring it down it coils back to its former position.
I certainly need a bath.
I hear my phone vibrate against the table and it lits up as a name flashes on the screen.
I move closer and pick it from the table.
I hesitate for a moment before I tap accept and take the device up to my ear.
"Zack what's up?"
I hear Cason's full-toned voice ring out from the other end.
"I'm screwed. Just hanging in here"
I say honestly.
"Prefect. We're going to the club together this evening. Like to tag along with the rest of us?"
"Sure thing. Is seven good?"
"Seven's alright. We met at your place and go from there"
"Sounds good. See you then" I say and cut the call.
My eyes dart to the clock hanging on the gray wall.
6:45pm.
A long sigh laps down from my lips as I stroll into the bathroom.
I come out dripping in ten minutes and get dressed.
Thought of going to the club with the guys excites me to the guts as I take one last look at myself in the mirror and head out.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone