Just a lil test

Transcript

Hi, this is Raven. I'm attempting to narrate my book, this is chapter 2 from The Fallen King, which is the first book in the Mafia Princess series that I am writing. So if you hear me kind of stumble a little, it's because I haven't been editing it as I should.

So yeah, let's get started. Also, I might have to cut here and there, my coughing fits have been acting up, so yeah. Anyway, let's get started.

Chapter 2, Valentina. You know what happens if you don't remember our part of the deal tomorrow, don't you father? My brother Constantine asks my father.

I love my father more than anything. And more than anything, I wanted to make him happy. So I got good grades at school, even though school wasn't hard, gained the necessary skills to defend myself and excelled in most things that I did.

The one thing he never saw coming from his daughter is that I would become a music prodigy. But when I first held a violin, all the world melted away. It was just me and the music.

By the time I was in middle school, I could compose my pieces. By the time I was in high school, I had my concerts and fans. I did occasionally sing, but singing wasn't the same after my mother died.

Yes, I am aware and perfectly capable of making the proper decisions for this deal, he replied. My brother's gaze drifted from my father to me, and I see him smirk. God, I hate him more now than ever.

My parents adopted my brother after one of their friends died. But we look eerily similar. People thought we were biological siblings.

We both had platinum silver hair. Mine had pink and purple highlights. And while his remained bare, he usually kept it up in a bun.

It fell straight to his shoulders when it was out of the bun. I let my hair down in loose waves, down to my waist. Only when I trained did I keep it in a bun.

His icy blue eyes were more defined as dark lashes surrounding them. Mine were slightly different. My left eye was a light shade of violet that could be passed off as blue, and my right eye was a shade of green, so light it looked almost blue.

Unlike him, the lucky bastard he was, my long faux eyelashes were the same color as my hair, so they were only visible when wearing mascara. We both had high cheekbones, but while his lower lip was full and almost pink, mine was a shade of red. I had full pouty lips, or what guys refer to as the perfect dick-sucking lips.

I couldn't deny my older brother was handsome. He was all the girls at school ever talked about, but they didn't know him, and they didn't know how volatile, sadistic, and cruel he could be. They didn't know the way he looked at me was not how a brother should be looking at his sister.

To blind eyes like my father's whose only fault was loving his children too much to realize that one of them was turning into a homicidal, psychopathic, sick individual. Too blind to see that his soon-to-be stepson, Tristan, was tormenting his beloved daughter. My father was ruthless and cruel.

I couldn't count the number of people I witnessed him kill. It's funny how someone as brilliant as him could miss so much of what was happening under his roof. My father, Nikolai, had the same hair color as I.

He had the same icy blue eyes my brother had, high cheekbone, a chiseled pronounced jaw, and he too, and he was built like a bull, which helped when intimidating people who thought of crossing him. Perfect. Now shall we talk about my darling sweet sister's departure tomorrow morning to go to university? Constantine remarked his gaze sank lower to my cleavage, making me squirm uncomfortably.

I could see a devilish smirk on his lips as he knew what his gaze was doing to me. How could my father be so blind to this? I want to be in my room, watching anime or reading manga.

I always take my meals in my room when my brother was here, but tonight was a special night because Ella, mother to Tristan, and my father's new fiancée and Tristan were here. You will protect my precious sister, won't you Tristan? I'd hate anything to happen to her.

Is that a threat to your brother? I say, slightly clenching my teeth, glaring at him. You seem to forget who I trained with, and you seem to forget that I have put you in your ass quite a few times.

Careful sister, you are forgetting yourself. I may you be your brother, but I'm your older and therefore deserve your respect. You should also know that showing all your cards won't be the smartest thing.

Of course, I'll look out for the enchanting Valentina after all. She'll be my sister, Tristan says, replying to the question my brother asked earlier. His dark ocean blue eyes looked at me.

Sometimes they would turn gray like a storm when he was angry. I know because I have seen them change that color on multiple occasions. Since middle school, Tristan has tormented me in the most sadistic ways.

Coincidentally, that's when Amelia and I started dating. Most people who wanted to join whatever Tristan had planned called me a louse, among other derogatory things, but I was bi and proud. It didn't matter if you were a man or a woman.

All that mattered was the soul inside. Of course, Tristan knew this because we were inseparable growing up. But when I saw Amelia in sixth grade, I knew there was something special about her.

Unlike me, she was 100% lesbian. We dated when we were in eighth grade, and it was perfect. My father got used to the idea.

He was reluctant due to her background, but he tried to love Amelia for me. My brother, on the other hand, saw her as Satan's spawn. Amelia and I got accepted to Algoron University, and we were going to get an apartment together so that I could take Lulu and Lucifer.

Tom Ellis made Satan himself hot as hell, so naturally, I blamed that show. Lucy, for short. Lulu was my cat, a black heart cat who luckily enough had lime green eyes.

Lucy was a wolf dog mix. He was black as well, with patches of white. His eyes like mine, one icy blue, the other one was a deep amber color with specks of green.

After some drunk asshole ran a red light and collided with Amelia's car, she lost her life before she got to the hospital. Those dreams of living together were crushed. Next month would be the second anniversary of her death.

My best friend Maria believes that some foul play could be involved. We could never prove it. Maria is Mateo's little sister, and is known as the cartel princess.

Mateo is the next head of the cartel, who also can't comprehend that I'm not interested in his promiscuous ways. I hated the way he always had a new girl with him every time I saw him, and I couldn't comprehend why it bothered me. Since my plans changed, I would be in the dorms and rooming with Maria.

She had been my rock since Amelia. Papushka, I have been doing some research, and would like to host a fundraiser gala. With your permission, of course.

I mentioned looking at my father. He was always open to ways that the business could look good. I could see his eyes shine with curiosity and relief.

He was starting to get a tad worried that I would not return to my old self, but I am making progress in healing. Plus, this would allow me to outshine my brother, which always felt good. See, we haven't done anything for charity in a while, and I was hoping that we could support two charities this time.

Some of the board members could give something to auction off and use that auction money to give to the charities that I picked out. Why don't you send me the plans, the charities, and the budget, and we can discuss it. I'm sure Ella wouldn't mind helping you either, and it would allow you two to bond.

My mother passed away when I was 11, just shy of 12, so Ella was there for me whenever I needed advice during my awkward adolescent phase, among other things. Ella was the only one outside of our family who knew the secrets of this family. The dark ones, too.

She was always kind and somewhat like a second mother to me. Would you mind helping me with this project, Ella? I asked her.

Ella had the same ocean blue eyes that Tristan did, but unlike Tristan's dark brown, almost black hair, she had dirty blonde long wavy hair. They both had high cheekbones. Ella was around 5'4 and was fit for a woman in her early 40s.

Tristan had kissable full lips that were a shade of pink, while Ella only had a full lower lip. I know you're busy, and I don't want to impose. Sweetie, you would not be imposing.

I'd be happy to help. It would be nice to bond with you as a stepdaughter, not as your guardian. I would like that as well, Ella.

Thank you. I glanced at my father, who seemed content that his future wife and I were getting along. I looked at Tristan for a second, and I see something in his eyes, like he was bothered by something.

His eyes turning into that shade of gray, he catches me staring and stares back. Something in the way he looks at me is different, almost predatorily hungry. The way my body responds to that look confuses me the most.

My heart flutters in my chest, my core feels like it has its own heartbeat, and my breathing becomes shallow. I shouldn't feel this way for someone that's going to be my stepbrother. That would complicate things for my father and Ella, and my father deserved to be happy.

After my mom died, he didn't have the light, but it came back when he and Ella started to take their relationship from being my dad's wife's best friend to girlfriend to now fiance. I take a sip of water, hoping that it would calm my nerves, but it does nothing for them. Sinful visions cloud my mind, visions that shouldn't be there, visions that make me wet enough to feel that ache between my legs.

I feel the heat on my cheeks grow, telling me that I'm starting to blush. I look back at Tristan, and I know he's having those thoughts. I can tell because he's still looking at me like I'm his favorite meal and he's been on the deserted island for months.

I take a moment to look at my brother, who doesn't look happy at all. I know that he noticed the exchange of looks, and I know that I will pay for it. I don't like his punishments, and I usually end up in the one place I call hell, the chamber.

The voices of the dead cry out for help in the chamber. I can see the scary way they look. No one knows that I can see them, and I could sometimes speak to them, but not many people know that I died in the same accident that killed my mother.

Doctors said it was a miracle. I was dead for five minutes until I was brought back into this hell. After then, I could see things no one else could, things that made me wake up screaming, things that would give older men nightmares.

I swallow my water hard. Despite drinking water, my throat felt dry. I fucked up.

I should have never looked at Tristan, never let my gaze last longer. I'm such a fool. I can't go to the chamber again.

I can't hear them ask for help when I can't help them. They're already dead. I should have never looked at Tristan, never even should have had those thoughts that I was having about him.

He made me cry, told me that he liked it when I cried, and that my pretty little tears only made him want to hurt me even more. The fucked up thing was at some part of me, deep inside, enjoyed it when he made me cry. So who was the real fucked up person here? I could feel Tristan's eyes.

I want to look eyes on me. I want to look up, but I know that Constantine is looking at me. I feel my phone vibrate when I need it the most.

My iWatch alerts me that Dimitri is texting me and I should call him. I put my water down and look at my father. I'm sorry, Papa.

Dimitri wants me to give him a call and I haven't talked to him in a long time. You know how they are at that school. I turn to Ella, excuse me for a few minutes.

Of course, she replies. I get up and walk to the living room and hit Dimitri's number. I take a few breaths to calm my breathing.

Tina, guess what? What, buddy? I'm going to be able to visit soon.

They said I've been doing well and I've been getting high marks. His adorable voice comes through the phone and my heart clenches. Dimitri is 8 years old, but he's intelligent, bright and a light that I didn't want to be dimmed in this world.

So I decided to send him to a school that would protect him. Dimitri had the Volkov look of blonde hair that almost looked white, with high cheekbones and a fierce personality. The only thing that sets him apart from us Volkovs are his eyes.

And amber, so pretty that you could get lost in them. A color that belongs to his father. A color that haunts my nightmares just as much as the dead.

I drew you so many pretty pictures, Tina. I'm glad you're having fun, buddy. I miss you.

Papa misses you, too.