Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
For my twin, it was even more than that.
Of the two of us, Rocklin was chosen to represent the union between the power families as the daughter of the northern district—alongside three others, the heiresses to the south, west, and of course the east—whom has yet to show her face to the world. The heiresses of the founding families, known as the girls of Greyson.
I was the leftover heir, the lesser of Rayo Revenaw’s kin.
I was as perfect as they painted me—hair never out of place, makeup forever fresh—but that was only the surface.
My sister embodies what a mafia princess is meant to be, according to my father.
She’s fierce, bold, and beautiful every minute of the day.
I’m…different.
I’m not weak and I’m not ugly. I’m aware of that—she and I share a face, after all—but I don’t shoot for sport and haven’t memorized every law book in existence. Where Rocklin is the picture of poise in situations that call for it, I am not.
She can smile in shitty circumstances, planning all the ways she’ll take you down in her head, where I’m more along the lines of take you down with a bottle to your head.
Which is why she was coveted, and I was the pain in the ass.
The daughter who didn’t listen, would rather dance in pointe shoes and read fiction than rule the world one scheme at a time. The rogue Revenaw I’ve heard people call me, all because I made no point of hiding my displeasure for the rules a daughter in this world is supposed to follow.
We’re the kids of murderers, drug runners, and more, for fuck’s sake. No shit we’re terrible at following the rules.
My invitation into Greyson Elite Academy, the accredited school for the blood of bad men, royalty, and upscale gang members my sister helps lead, was meant to whip me into shape, but so much good that did.
Where do you think I found the guy that helped me track down the man who wanted to kill my father and take his place? Son of the go-to family for PI work? Of course he goes to Greyson Elite.
It’s funny, though, being around the spawns of the most notorious criminals in our world, you see firsthand the difference in expectations we all had—or have - held over our heads.
My dad wanted his daughters to be strong leaders, perfect on the outside and even more so on the inside—soldiers in sapphires and satin—where other power families trained only the men. The females were raised to be submissive, to never meet the eye of a man and bend to their every will. To be soft, sweet, and basically a virginal weakling doomed to be traded for opportunities she grants a man.
I had issues, and my father knew it just as I knew my sister was the future for our family, so it made sense he didn’t breathe down my neck like he did her. That meant I had to figure out which version of a mafia princess to be and that was difficult when I hated both options.
I’m a terrible listener and I do things out of spite.
They think I’ll try to steal the show—I steal it or I don’t show up at all.
They think I’ll give little effort—I give zero or I upstage everyone.
It’s easy to be what people expect and the fun part is everyone expects something different, so maybe I’m the lazy brat they assumed me to be, and then in the next second, I’m collapsing with overexertion. It makes for an interesting shit-talking session at the galas, others taking bets in what the other twin will or won’t do since no one can say for sure which role I’ll play when the moment arises.
If my mother were alive, she would have helped me find my way, but she isn’t so I found what makes me feel less like a piece on a chess board—you can’t back a girl into a corner if you’re unsure whether she’ll cower or claw her way out.
I knew with my mother dead, the promise my dad made to never force us to marry had died too, so with my sister taking over the family name, that meant I would be treated like the other heiresses to powerful men. I’d be given to whomever offered my father the most incentive.
There was no way Father would go to his enemy, the only man who had the power to burn my family’s empire to the ground; he was way too proud for that.
So I went to him myself, thinking it was the smartest move I could ever make.
If my sister got the power of the name we were born into, I would find one just as supreme.
It was a fool’s way of thinking, but I’ve been called worse.
Looking down the long drive, I watch as a sleek silver car comes into view, curving along the giant paved path, and again, my heart beats a little faster.