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I Tried To Be A Good Girl, But My Past Won’t Stay Burried

I Tried To Be A Good Girl, But My Past Won’t Stay Burried

Romance
last updateLast Updated : 2026-02-13
By:  Sakakibara9300Completed
Language: English
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Synopsis

Action

Fast-Paced Plot

First-Person POV

Contract Marriage

First Love

Mafia

Hidden Identity

Naomi Belle was raised in the shadows—an elite assassin whose name alone made the underworld flinch. But after uncovering the truth about her stolen past, and a slight problem, she walks away from blood and darkness to return home… only to discover her parents are alive and she has an overprotective brother who think she’s an angel. Unfortunately, Naomi’s idea of “gentle and well-behaved” involves resisting the urge to snap necks when irritated. Keeping her secret identity hidden is hard enough—until a nosy, sharp-eyed businessman named Stephen Smith literally catches her red-handed. Instead of exposing her, Stephen starts teasing his way into her double life—and her guarded heart. His relentless humor, maddening charm, and inconveniently golden personality chip away at Naomi’s killer instincts, one smirk at a time. But love doesn’t erase danger. The underworld hasn’t forgotten its deadliest recruit, and Naomi’s family and Stephen become perfect leverage. Between keeping her halo straight for her brother and hiding a gun under her cardigan, Naomi will have to decide which identity to protect—and who she’s willing to kill for when both worlds collide.

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Chapter 1

Naomi Belle

"If you hadn't been born, Mommy would still be alive!"

"I hope it's just you who died and not your mother!"

I could hear Margaux and Daddy’s voice over and over in my brain. I don't know why I suddenly hear their voices.

I can not breathe.

Help!

Please. Help me! I can't breathe!

I closed my eyes tightly as I struggled to catch my breath. I tried to hold onto my necklace hoping that it could save me but I wasn’t wearing any.

"Tiarra! What the hell is happening to you ?!"

I don't know. I just ... can't breathe.

Gradually my eyelids closed as an image appeared that I could only see in my dreams.

"Mommy."

"Tiarra, please! You need to breathe!"

I want to, but I can't.

I'm so tired that I want to just shut down and fade away.

I no longer knew what was going on around me but I still knew what was going on in my body.

I just felt someone hug me.

I could feel her trembling as she hugged me.

"Shaney c'mon! You need to breathe. Breathe for me, please."

I can hear the desperation in her voice.

I want to do what she says but my body won't cooperate.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! I'll make it up to you, promise. Just hold on okay? I'm here. I won't leave you ever again."

That's the last thing that I have heard when everything turns black.

----

Copyright © 2021 PenOfHope

All Rights Reserved

DON'T PLAGIARIZE OR DISTRIBUTE.REMEMBER, STEALING IS A CRIME.

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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97 Chapters
Naomi Belle
The tea was lukewarm by the time I lifted the porcelain cup again, its faint steam curling in the stale pressurized air of my private jet. France shrank behind me in silence. The stewardess wheeled in a rack of clothes—black, sleek, expensive. My colors, my style, my armor. None of it would do. I set the cup down, dabbed my mouth with a napkin, then turned sharply toward her. My finger cut through the air like a blade. "Give me your spare clothing," I ordered. Her eyes widened. "Mine?" "Problem?" I tilted my head, calm but sharp. She knew who I was, or at least enough. The leader of an empire doesn't stroll through an airport looking like herself. "Not at all!" She scrambled out, heels clicking frantically as if her life depended on it. Which, for all she knew, it did. I leaned back into the leather seat, nausea creeping up—not from the flight, but from the sheer humiliation of being forced out of Paris like some petty criminal. Worse, I had stumbled into my birth parents. Weal
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Naomi Belle
I discharged myself. Rightfully so. Hospitals suffocate me, and that hysterical family of mine? I could only stomach so much of their tears and hovering before my patience snapped and I went crazy on them. Unfortunately for me, nothing had been going my way lately. Not in Paris. Not here. "Naomi, why did you come out of the ward on your own?" A voice called from the road. "You're still weak right now." I turned—Pierre Belle, the younger one. My brother. Blond, soft-eyed, the type of boy who probably believed in chivalry and fairy tales. He leaned out of his car window, alarm dripping off his face. "Why're you on the road?" Shit. I'm supposed to be weak. I let my knees buckle, dropping to the ground. Pathetic on purpose. He rushed out of the car, hands fumbling as he helped me back up. "I woke up in the room alone and didn't know what to do," I murmured, feigning fear. "I thought you guys left me there." "I'm sorry, it's all my fault," Pierre said immediately, guilt thick in his
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Stephen Smith
The view of the siblings from the second floor was pretty interesting. When my father told me he'd made a deal with the Belle family to marry me off to one of their kids if they had a daughter, I nearly disowned him on the spot. I didn't want to meet her at all. I'd actually been perfectly content with the arrangement being nothing more than ink on paper, her lost somewhere in France. I was planning on never seeing her in my life. But then the old man said she was suddenly coming to America. And apparently, I had to meet her before another man got to her. The Belle family. Spineless idealists. The type to talk about saving the world while ignoring the ones they trampled over in the process which was many. How else do you get so rich? A family of useful idiots at best. And if Naomi Belle was anything like the rest of them, I'd make it very clear: we were never going to happen. She better fuck off back to France. The hospital should've proven me right. She barely glanced at me befo
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Naomi Belle
The man in black didn't blink as he said it. "Mr. Zackary Quinn is on the second floor. Are you ready to see him?" So that was the name. His friend—the one who'd handed Pierre that pathetic little invite. "I think I heard you mention him earlier," I said to Pierre, my voice light, but my eyes sharp. "Didn't you say you'd introduce us?" Pierre puffed his chest up like a bird pretending to be bigger than it was. "Let's go." His voice was firm, protective, like he thought he could do something if it all went wrong. I almost rolled my eyes. We moved down the hallway toward the stairs, and luck tossed me a gift. That same idiot—the one who had tried to insult me earlier with his little brother story—stood there sulking. I'd half expected him to slink off and lick his wounds, but no, he was patched up already. Mr. Smith's bullet had only grazed him. Terrible aim. At least he'd left this fool intact enough for me to deal with. "I'm going to the bathroom," I said, feigning casualness. "
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Naomi Belle
"Did you hear? The guy that tried hitting on you last night," Pierre said the second I stepped out of my room that morning. He looked grim, voice hushed like he was carrying state secrets. "They found his body mangled by the river this morning. Looks like that guy offended someone he shouldn't have. Let's not go back there again, it's too dangerous. We're not cold-blooded and cruel like those people. I swear, there's zero humanity." Well then, wait until you find out who I am, brother dear. "Ok," I said lightly, pretending not to care. "I'm going to get dressed and ready for the day." "Of course! Sorry to bother you." He gave me one of his warm smiles and headed down the hall. I smiled back sweetly, closing the door behind me. Then I went straight for my laptop, slid on my headphones, and connected the call. "Colin?" His video popped up instantly. Colin's smug grin filled the screen. "Hé, la patronne, I see you've slept well. How does it feel being recognized by a rich family li
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Stephen Smith
"Oh, Colin, isn't it?" Zack said, reaching out his hand like he was about to shake with some politician instead of a man who clearly reeked of the underworld. Idiot. For a moment I could've sworn Colin's entrance had been directed at Naomi—his eyes were all for her—but Zack was right there beside her, trying to claim the spotlight as usual. "Oh, it turns out that their boss is you, Zack?" Naomi asked, her voice pitched with just the right amount of nervousness to make her look naive. "I heard that you had a lot of power and are connected to a lot of people in the underworld." I narrowed my eyes. Was she serious? What idiot would actually believe— "This guy listens to you?" The Cyprus girl chimed in, eyes wide with fake admiration. "No wonder you've been so secretive! You're a powerful man." "Uh, yeah, I'm the boss," Zack said, puffing his chest out like a rooster. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. That's impossible. The feeling I had earlier couldn't be wrong. The heavines
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Naomi Belle
Motherfucker. So what if I can't swim? That doesn't make me weak—it makes me more dangerous. Because anyone who knows that now is on my kill list. Smith should already be dead. And my cigarettes were ruined. That, more than drowning, pissed me off. After this is over, I'll kill him. "Hey, Naomi, I'm here to play with you," a voice slithered from behind me, followed by the click of the door locking. I turned. Zack. In my room. Good. Perfect, actually. If he wanted to play at being me, then he could handle being the target of my frustration. He could bleed for it. You live by the sword, you die by the sword. I smirked, rolling my shoulders, irritation sizzling through me like static. "You're a lot more fucking stupid than I originally thought." I chuckled, sharp and humorless. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Zack froze, his dumb grin faltering. I should've had a cigarette in my hand, but instead I had my fists ready. "Wait—what the hell?" "You said you're Colin's boss, co
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Naomi Belle
I only said that because there was no way Zack was waking up. Not after the way I'd dropped him earlier. He should've been out cold till morning. But Smith... Smith just looked at me. Looked at me with that stupid little smile like we shared some kind of secret. Then he nodded. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I didn't send him any message. What was this guy's problem—why was he so damn nosy? "Wake him up, John," Smith ordered casually. John didn't hesitate. He grabbed an ice bucket from the corner, marched over, and dumped the entire freezing mess over Zack's face. The idiot twitched violently, gasped, sputtered, and jerked awake. Well, shit. "Zack, Zack honey," his mom was on him instantly, kneeling down and cradling his soaked face. "Please quickly apologize to the Belle girl." Zack's eyes locked on me. I didn't even have to move. The fear in him was raw, trembling through every twitch. He tried to shuffle backward, dragging himself across the floor like an animal try
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Stephen Smith
I walked out of the Belle mansion with a grin I couldn't hold down, the night air cooler on my face than it had any right to be. My chest felt lighter, like I'd swallowed smoke and it turned to champagne somewhere inside me. If I'd stayed in that room a second longer, I might have exploded outright. She said yes. Naomi Belle—if that was even her real name—had agreed to get to know me. Of course, it wasn't affection. I wasn't delusional. She was weighing her options right there in front of me, calculating like the hidden genius she was, and I could almost hear the gears in her head grinding against one another. Which meant something big. And she thought I was useful. Good. That was the first step. A step closer to peeling back the mask and seeing the monster—or goddess—behind it. No normal woman had a background sealed that tightly. She wasn't just someone. She was something. And I'd have her admit it to me herself. "I can't believe she actually said yes after the way she glare
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Naomi Belle
Is this person seriously walking past me for the third time? That was a clear sign I'd been marked. Did they really think I wouldn't notice? ...Well, probably. I'd been playing the part of some pampered, clueless little doll so well they must've thought I wouldn't catch on. But I did catch on. And I saw the fucking rifle scope glinting on the rooftop too. A sniper. Great. That's why I kept weaving behind people—no clear shot for him. And my so-called bodyguards? Mercenaries, my ass. What's the point of hiring "ex-military" if they couldn't even keep up with me? The first chance I got, I slipped away. Fast steps, head down, slipping into the flow of another street before cutting into a flea market. It was packed—perfect cover. Fabrics hanging, food stalls steaming, vendors yelling over each other. I ducked between two stands, weaving forward, then slid into a narrow alleyway that dead-ended, out of the way of foot traffic. They'd follow. They always did. I crossed my arms. "You c
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