I've found you.
Three simple words that sent Zariha Ich into a frenzy.
She knew what she had to do, because she knew who sent the note.
Vanya Abakumov.
The bastard was her ex-lover and the most popular guy in California. With his lean body, five o'clock shadow, and long, dirty blonde hair, he looked like a man made to sin. And that's exactly what he does. He's also well known for the amount of murder in many states other than California. With hit man's and spy's, he holds all of California under his control, unless you want your family's last look at you to be in a body bag.
"Fuck him! Fuck that I even met him!" she screamed in rage and threw bags onto her bed, then threw as much stuff as she could fit in them, then hauled ass toward the Lamborghini her boyfriend got her last year.
"I'm sorry, Amin." she mutters and pulls out of the driveway and speeds to the one place she swore she would never go back to.
Vanya's POV
"A woman is here to see you." my secretary reports and I look up from the computer I was looking at.
"Send her in." I say, annoyed.
"Yes, sir." she scurrys out of the room and I feel a precence I haven't felt in over two years.
"Zariha. I see you got my note?" I ask innocently and she plops her plump ass in the chair across from me.
"Of course I got your fucking note. It was painted on the wall of my fucking bedroom." she shoots daggars at me and I sigh.
"Well, I didn't send the note, Benedikt did."
"That asshole is still here? I'm suprised he isn't dead." she grumbles, but I ignore her
"Let's get down to business."
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United States • 16 years old