The Seed Of Revenge

The Seed Of Revenge

chinemerem osakwe · Completed · 206.3k Words

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Introduction

My husband and my best friend kissed as they watched me fall off the cliff, thinking I was dead.

I didn't know it would come to this. I was naive. Tara grabbed me, kissed my forehead, and pushed me into the abyss. I woke up from a coma two years later, realizing I had lost everything—my baby, my wealth, and my identity. The doctors said I was a miracle, but I knew the truth: The old me died in that valley. The woman who woke up only breathes for one thing: Revenge.

To destroy them, I had to become someone else. I walked into the "Game Slum," ready to sell my soul to the highest bidder. I needed power, and I needed it fast. The Madam looked me up and down, smiling like she’d found a prize filly. "You'll have to work for Big Daddy as his plaything for six months," she said, smoke curling from her lips. "He breaks women. Most don't survive the contract."

I didn't care. I signed the papers without hesitation. I was escorted to a massive mansion, expecting a hideous, potbellied monster. But when the double doors opened, I wasn't met with a beast. A tall, dangerous man with dark, piercing eyes stood there. He circled his desk, his cologne filling my senses, and whispered against my ear, "You don't want to know how hideous I can get with you, trust me."


After being pushed off a cliff by her husband and best friend, Ana survives a two-year coma only to wake up to nothing. Fueled by hatred, she sells herself to the notorious "Big Daddy" of the underworld to gain the power she needs for revenge. Expecting a monster, she finds Arthur King—a handsome, ruthless mafia boss who demands total submission. But as secrets unravel and her ex-husband returns from the shadows, Ana finds herself torn between her thirst for blood and her dangerous desire for the man who owns her contract. A dark romance full of betrayal, steam, and vengeance.

Chapter 1

**

I was already at the edge of the cliff and like those suspensefully inane scenes you watch in the movies, it'd only take a shudder or maybe a shreak to topple me over to my ridiculous end. The one I have known to be my best friend, the one I bragged about to be the one that stuck closer than a sister, watched me in triumph and appeared impatient to finish me off.

She slowly took manacing steps towards me and I had to stay frozen on my spot as my eyes settled on the man I'd said my vows to watching nonchalantly like I wasn't at the verge of death. I didn't know it'd come to this, I was naive. What could I have done differently? How did I let it happen?

I had told myself time and time again that it wasn't my fault and I could swear I was indeed a good and a devoted wife but what I got in the end was beyond me.

Tara grabbed me on both arms, gave me a light kiss on my forehead and pushed me from off the cliff and there I was sinking into the valley with sealed lips and bundled body. It would have been better if I could let out all the screams I couldn't let out through my sealed lips, the regret, pain, and everything you could think of only had one outlet, it all found freedom with the tears that gushed and blurred my vision and I could only see the triumphant smirk from my husband and my best friend.

**

I opened my eyes and slipped out off my tiny bed with a sweating body. It was the reoccurring nightmare that sprung out of my fate 5 years ago. I didn't know what it felt like in the first three years because I was unconscious and I'd just woke up 2 years ago from coma. The first few days turn weeks was unbearable and devastating enough to gasp and almost loose my breath and a couple of months later, it was a mix of better and worse but after a year, it sank into me. I got used to it and I didn't let it affect me to the extent it normally would; I willed myself to get strong and then stronger and most of all, I used it as basis for my cold approach to the world. It was better that way. I could easily get my revenge unfazed and unscathed, so coldness was the best approach to life. It was the only thing that made me willing enough to grab breakfast, probably skip lunch and then have dinner. I physically have to be strong enough to fight and fight really well even if it requires the expense of my last breath yet again.

The doctors had said that I had died and miraculously kicked back to life and I'd like to think and I really want to believe the old me is dead and lost and a new me , born again and still breathing till I see the end of those mothertruckers!

The old me was so rich and well off and that makes me even more convinced my betrayers conspired for my demise to claim it all. Now I live in a slum village with the usual screams and banter belonging to devoted women who sleep with men for money.

Few months ago, I had considered finding my own expression in the field too but I had resolved not to. That was the first time in my life considering something has haughty as prostituting myself to get money to be able to feed and fend for myself. I depended on scraps and leftovers from the nearby slum and I always got an earful about surrendering myself like they do to eat, take care of myself and look good and not mope around like a worthless begger all in the name of pride and dignity.

I pinch myself each time tears blur my vision, willing myself not to cry and make further mess of my life but why does tears only come when you don't want it to? The more I pinched myself to snap out of it, the more it threads to my jaw in total freedom. I didn't feel pain from where I'd hurt myself but only blood and even more blood as I made to wash it off. This is a sneak peak of the 'behind the scenes' of a cold woman.

It wasn't long when I decided that I was too far of and that I intend on making a life for myself with whatever means I dimed fit. I was going to start with hitting the game slum tonight and see if I could get a befitting match that was ready to pay double to take it all. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I still looked good just that I could use a couple of benign clothing to begin my adventure.

I finally approached Clara who out of all the other crazy women, seemed cool enough to confide in. She lent me some of her clothes and makeup, coaching me about the do's and don'ts, pros and cons about what I decided to venture into. Though she welcomed me to the club with open arms, she didn't fail to warn me to return her things within a week, after which, she believes I'd make enough money by then to get my own stuff. I agreed.

I was escorted dressed in a second skinned clothing with heels to meet the 'boss' of the game slum in order to register as the newest member. As we approached the door, I felt no emotion not even an ounce of regret as regards to my decision to sell my soul to this profession. I felt nothing and nothing else could work better, not having to feel anything was the best resolve yet.

We didn't even have to knock, we just went in like it's no biggie. As we entered another room, a couple of eyes rested on us, particularly on me because I was the only stranger present.

"Here we are boss." The big guy that accompanied Clara and myself said with a trace of satisfaction in his voice. I don't blame him, even I feel satisfied.

The boss who appeared to be a small looking woman probably in her late thirties looked me up and down and smiled after her brief scan on my body.

"Where did you get her from?" The boss didn't wait for a response. "She's a good one." She concluded.

I stood in their midst emotionless. My gaze bore into the walls choosing not to stare at any being present.

"What's your name pretty?" The boss asked me.

I instantly reminded myself that the old me was dead and gone as well as the name. I guess this was an opportunity to opt for a new identity. An identity that'll now define me for the rest of my life.

"Ana", I said confidently. The boss seem to roll her eyes. "I hope you won't scare the costumers away with that cold expression." She face palmed herself and approached me. "I didn't force you to make it here, so loosen up bitch! Don't upset me!"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and made an attempt to smile for the first time since five years. I guess it was a sloppy attempt because she instantly groaned.

"Get out." She said to me and referred to my escorts, "take her to level one and bring her back later. So I can conclude my business with this gentleman."

That was when I fully noticed the calm looking man at the far end corner of her office. He looked undisturbed and also like someone who wouldn't give two sh*ts even if the world was coming to an end. He was brazen enough to tilt his head to the side to get a better view of me as if parts of me was fading fast into the atmosphere.

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