Being the daughter of an alcoholic, isn't a great thing. But what is worse is losing my mother at the age of seven. My father, Oliver Kruiz has hated me ever since, thinks I took his wife away from him. When in reality, it was his failure to show up that caused her death. As though hating me wasn't enough to keep me depressed, he tried to get me married to a man twenty years older than I was. I don't think twice before running away, the night before my wedding. I was meant to be careful but got careless, and nearly ended up being molested by thugs. That is before I'm saved by my dark hero: Hayden Wren. Things didn't exactly start smoothly, but that didn't mean they ended well either. I had phobia for thugs because my mother was killed by them; while trying to protect me. Everything suddenly goes south, when I find out the man who had saved me was no different. Which leaves me thinking: is he a friend or foe? --- River Kruiz, the daughter of a drunkard, Oliver Kruiz. She has phobia for thugs, and even eloped the night before her wedding. Nearly for this same reason. But what happens when she finds herself growing attached to a mafia?
View MoreMy little feet led me across the cold tiles as I ran. I was giggling and playing, not realizing when my little legs took me to the kitchen.
There I found my mother cooking breakfast, she was humming to herself as she steadily stirred the mixture in the pot. I giggle as I waddle towards her, wrapping my small arms around her leg. She stops and looks down at me with surprise in her eyes.
Slowly, a smile appears on her face, but mine is wider. She picks 'little me' in her arms, and kisses my forehead. I chuckle, "how's my little River doing?" She asks, her nose nuzzling my cheek.
I laugh, and after some time she gently places me on the floor. Her attention back to her food.
I clap my hands, as I play while she rounds up her cooking. I hear father come out the room, nose sniffing the air. "Oliver stop sniffing, River will imitate it." She scolds him from the kitchen.
Dad's face goes slack for a moment, and I burst into a loud pearl of laughter. His eyes suddenly glisten with mischievousness as he picks me up.
"You laughing at me, tiger?" He teases, a smile on his lips. Then he turns his attention back to mother, "how did you know I was sniffing?" He asks her. Amusement clouding his eyes, she turns to him with a blank look.
He shrinks back a bit, as mom sets the table.
"It's your habit." She said, taking me from his arms. "Now come on, it's time to eat, we have a long day ahead." Mother urged us both, sitting me on my little chair. I smile at her, before eating up my food and father does the same.
----
Slowly, this beautiful memory begins to fade into a gray one. I blink, tears swelling up in my eyes as I stare at the empty dining table.
Mom is dead, and dad is no less an alcoholic, and it was all surprisingly my fault. She had died two years after that memory, and my dad couldn't bear to lose her.
I clear the dishes, and set to work. I begin washing out the dirty plates, my mind zoning out once more.
I was only seven when she had died, but dad couldn't help but blame me. Father was almost never home, and it wasn't helping with this empty hollow feeling I felt inside.
After her death, father had abandoned his responsibilities. I had no choice but to sell food in a restaurant to earn a living to support myself. I trained myself to school till high school level.
Things were getting more difficult, and father didn't miss any chance to try to strangle me whenever he returned drunk.
I began to hide in my room, whenever he came home to protect myself. I would always cry myself to sleep, wondering how it all fell apart this way.
I quickly gathered all the things I needed, before making my way to the restaurant I worked at. Where I sold the food I cooked. While I set up, I hear a familiar voice call out to me. "Hey River! How are your sales going?" I lift my head to see an average heighted guy, my age.
I recognized him as Gilbert. "It's going just fine, Gilbert." I reply softly, to which he smiles.
Just when I'm done setting up, I hear someone scoff. About twenty minutes after Gilbert had left to tend to his business. I didn't need anyone to tell me who it was. "What do you want?" I ask with gritted teeth, eyes narrowing at the annoying yet familiar figure.
It was my arch nemesis, who didn't seem to miss a chance to irritate me, Gina.
"Hello, I just wanted to see how bad things were going for you here." she says with a glazed stare and I clench my jaw. Trying my level best to not lose control. "Well, as you can see Gina; things are making progress." comes my clipped reply, then it hits me.
"Don't tell me you came to seek advice from me. If that's the case, then I'm sorry. I don't give advice to people like you, I'm sure you're aware of that." I taunt, and she fumes. Her face was already red, I can't help but smile. She angrily turns around and stomps away.
Now that has been taken care of, 'Get your meal here! Hot and delicious!!' I wrote on a board which I placed in front of the restaurant. Staring at the people passing by, hoping to catch their attention.
Soon, the restaurant opened in full swing. People began to trip in, and I must admit, this made my boss extremely happy. I immediately set to work on the cooking, and behind me Gina was busy with washing the dishes.
I'll admit it was a miracle we both hadn't strangled each other yet. Though we knew it would affect our salary, and so we wouldn't dare.
The bell rings from the counter, a few seconds later; Gilbert is shoving a paper with a scribbled request on it at my face. "Another order from Mr. Arnold Knot." I hear him say absent mindedly. My eyes scan the paper carefully, before I immediately set to work.
Within twenty minutes I was done and ready to serve. Gilbert directs me to seat number twelve, I let him lead the way. I gently place the tray of food on the table.
I don't miss the way he stares at me, it was anything but comfortable. "Your order sir, please let me know if there is anything else you need." I say in dismissal, turn on my heel and head back to the kitchen.
Something about the way Mr. Knot had stared at me was unsettling. "You okay?" A familiar voice asks me over a shoulder. I nod my head, still slightly dazed, "I am." I lie. Trying to convince myself, not Eva. Whatever it was, I couldn't shake it off.
I couldn't move.. couldn't breathe..What had they done to Evelyn? Its my fault, its my fault she got involved in this situation. I feel my temperature rise as I struggle to my feet. My chest feels constricted, and the air around me feels heavy. I am having another... panic attack.The ground slips beneath my feet, and the only sound that pierces through the haze is Mira's scream. My eyes are half closed as the floor gets closer. Then rushing steps in my direction, and then black out.At first it's all blurry when I open my eyes, but have to shut them back immediately. The lights are blindingly bright. I open them again, and blink back the haziness from my vision. A familiar deep voice greets me, "Oh come on, she just got stabbed; and now this?" I'm guessing he's not aware that I'm awake yet. Wait, Hayden's back? Them how long have I been out? I struggle to sit upright, to get a clear view of the time from the clock which hung on the wall. I wince, as I struggle to, and hear th
The next morning when I wake up, my body feels numb and limp. I sit upright with a groan, only to notice I'm in my bed. I blink, slowly, then rapidly. When did he leave? What was this sinking feeling in my chest? I can't say.I get up with a grunt, realizing I'm still putting on the clothes from yesterday. "I need a thorough bath." I mutter under my breath, aiming for the bathroom.Once I'm done with my business for the day, I make my way to the vanity on the wall opposite the entrance to the bathroom. Hayden must have got this personally installed while I was at the hospital.I sit on the stool, about to apply some cream when I stop midway, noticing a sticky note on the table. I pick it up as gently as I can to avoid tearing it, and stare at the words scribbled on it.Gosh, the handwriting on this is just... beautiful. I sigh, and shake my head quickly. Snapping out of it. I squint my eyes at it again, doing my best to not admire the handwriting. From the message, I can tell its hi
The moment we arrive at the mansion, surprisingly, Hayden gets out and opens the door before the guard does. However, all the traces of surprise vanish the moment the doors to the mansion are pulled open. A sobbing Mira pulls me into a tight hug, the air in my lungs leave me immediately. I groan, "too... tight." I rasp, just then Hayden grabs a hand of Mira's, not too tight and not gentle either. Then he tugs on it, "Her wound just got stitched today, you may tear it open again." He says to her, voice firm.Slowly, her grip on me reduces, gradually until its gone. She's standing in front of me now, still sobbing. "I'm sorry, I just missed you too much." she whispered. Just then, urgent steps echoed in the mansion, the moment I turn my head to the entrance of the kitchen... I see Mr. Ron making his way towards me.I flinch squeezing my eyes shut, thinking he's about to give me another oxygen depriving hug, but thankfully, he knows his limits. I feel a gentle pat on my head, and silen
TEN DAYS LATER: I couldn't stop the excitement that was buzzing through my veins. I would be discharged today, what a relief.I couldn't stop the content sigh that slips through my lips as I day dream. Laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling."You look happy." a deep husky voice says, causing my eyes to widen, both in shock and surprise."What..." I begin, but he just waves non-challantly in my direction in dismissal; before he shuts the door behind him. I could tell that the guards were standing at the entrance.He began to walk towards the bed where I lay, and for some reason, the hair on my arms and neck began to stand on end. "You came." I say, not knowing what to think or utter in the moment."Yeah." Hayden replies after a moment of silence, as he makes himself comfortable on a seat beside my bed.My mind is racing with different thoughts, as I slowly sit upright facing him. "When will I be discharged?" I blurt out, saying the only thing I thought was reasonable enough to
My vision is a blur as I open my eyes for the first time in who knows how long?My body feels numb, my head pounding like someone was currently using a hammer on it.My throat dry, and breathing felt like it was burning my lungs. I try to observe my surroundings, doing my best to blink away the haziness from my gaze. I make out the machine at the side of the bed which seemed to read my heart rate and pulse.A pipe connected to my hand, transfusing blood into my system.Alright, I'm in a hospital.I try to get up but the pain at my lower back causes me to stiffen and fall back on the bed. I let out a low grunt, gritting my teeth as unshed tears blurred my vision.Yes, it was that painful.From the corner of my eyes, I see something or someone shift. It gets up and towers over me.I blink back the unshed tears and do my best to turn my head to the side. When I do, I realize its not a thing.It's Hayden.His hair is tousled roughly, like he had ran his hands through them several times.
Third Person Pov:Hayden remained pacing back and forth in front of the ICU; his heart pounding hard in his chest. He was scared, he hated to admit this, but he hadn't been this scared in a while. Two years ago to be exact. The memory of carrying her unconscious body into the hospital as she bled out, demanding the doctors attend to her. He hadn't lost his cool like that in a while, he had been panicking so much his hands shook. With a haggard breath, he ran his hands through his hair. He had been so afraid to lose her. 'Why did she do that? Why didn't he stop her?' He couldn't help but blame himself. He should have killed that bastard long ago before he had the chance to hurt her again.His eyes were blood red in fury, just as his pace increased; the light on the ICU ward turned off. And a doctor wearing a mask, steps out pulling his gloves off. Hayden's pacing comes to a halt as he practically bolts to his side."How is she?" He asks, voice hoarse. The doctor is silent for
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