I apologize in advance for any mishaps in grammar. I didn't get a chance to edit this like I wanted to. But I'll eventually go back and fix everything, as well as change a few little things here and there because I am not too happy with this.

I managed to change chapter one to how I like it, so, read that.

Prologue

Jocelyn giggled breathlessly as she jogged through the open field, struggling not to trip over her flowing dress. She bunched up the flimsy skirt in her hand and ran faster, a mischievous smile fanning out across her face. She felt a rush of excitement and adrenaline pulsing through her veins, pumping through her heart.

"Luke!" She shouted to the silhouette who stood alone, gazing up at the full moon. Upon hearing his name, said Luke snapped his eyes behind him to the voice, breaking into a grin as wide as hers once he saw her.

He shifted his body just as she collided into him, barely catching he. She laughed, a sound full of glee, before leaning down to press her lips against his. They remained in a passionate kiss for several moments, locked in each other's embrace before ending the kiss. Luke slowly set her down until the tips of her toes grazed the grass, but didn't remove his hands from her waist. Jocelyn wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching him close to her. She played with the dark hair at the nape of his neck, twirling it idly. Her carefree mood darkened as her next thoughts glazed over.

"I told him no." She whispered, her smile nowhere to be seen. She was slightly relieved that he couldn't see her expression. She knew how much he hated it when she didn't smile.

Luke fell silent, most likely lost in thought. She waited, gauging his reaction as her blood rushed in her ears. Finally, he blew out a long sigh against her neck and tightened his hold on her. "How'd he take it?"

For as long as Luke could remember, the only thing Valentine Morgenstern had actually cared about was Jocelyn. They used to be the best of friends, not to mention allies.

And then they met Jocelyn and everything changed.

They're friendship pivoted and crashed. They both began competing for Jocelyn. In the beginning, it seemed that Valentine would win her heart. He treated her like a queen, after all, buying her gifts from left and right, sending her flowers and showering her with attention. But things quickly turned upside down when Luke began to pursue Jocelyn in his own way. Unlike Valentine, instead of trying to make her fall for him by using his wealth, he opted for a different route. He spent time with her, he talked with her and listened to her and laughed with her, sharing favorite books and music. He was the perfect gentleman, never pushing.

And Jocelyn recognized that with Luke, she'd have a happy marriage. With Valentine, all she'd have was a rather bitter one. She, in the end, she chose the most obvious choice.

As much as Luke wished for Valentine and him to be friends again, he knew that would never happen. But he couldn't regret choosing Jocelyn.

Jocelyn swallowed and buried her face into the crook of his neck as she sniffed, "He . . . he was angry. He blamed it on you." Her voice broke at the end of her sentence and Luke felt her wet tears slide down from the corners of her eyes and dampen his shirt. "I'm afraid of what he'll do."

"I won't let him," Luke promised as he dipped down to kiss her temple.

"No Luke," Jocelyn said as she shook her head and pulled back to look at him, "you don't know that. He's got power by his side—"

"And I don't?" He cut her off, pulling back to stare at her.

"He's ruthless."

"So am I."

"Not when it comes down to me."

"Especially when it comes down to you."

"I wish you weren't in this life."

Luke felt his lips part, unable to respond to her words. He looked down at her emerald green eyes, noting how beautiful they looked as they twinkled like gems against the pale light of the moon. He also noted how sad they looked, filled with even more unshed tears.

"I'm sorry. Please don't be sad." Luke apologized, trying not to look as grim as he felt. It didn't matter though. There was only one person who could read him like a book, even with his poker face on, and it was her. "Not when you have a wedding to plan." He said as he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb.

Jocelyn's face lit up slightly, which made his do the same. He twirled a strand of her blazing red hair around his fingers before reaching inside of his jacket pocket to retrieve the engagement ring he'd given to her a week ago. He took her slender left hand in his rough, calloused ones. Gently, he slid the ring onto her finger. Then he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers.

"I love you, Jocelyn. Forever and always." He said as he hugged her to him.

"I love you too, Lucian. Forever and always." She whispered into his ear. It was a moment before she added, "Oh and Luke?"

"Yes?" He murmured as he rubbed her back.

"I don't want a big, fancy wedding. I want a small one. Right here. We'll only invite family, maybe a few close friends."

"Of course," he chuckled, "anything you want, Lyn."

True to his word, Luke and Jocelyn held a small ceremony in the open field beside her family's manor only a week later.

A year later, Jocelyn and Luke welcomed their first child–a baby girl that they named Clarissa.

They were as happy as they could ever be–Luke even more so. Now he'd have an heir to his empire. It didn't matter to him that she was a girl. He didn't believe in men being the dominant race, anyway.

But it nagged Jocelyn. She didn't want her daughter to be tangled in Luke's mafia clan. As much as she loved him, the thought of any of her children being involved in his "work" crushed her. It was dangerous. She worried endlessly about her husband enough already. But to have her child in the mix as well–she just couldn't bear it.

When the time comes, she told herself, I will put my foot down.

Little did she know she wouldn't be there to put her foot down.

"Happy birthday, baby girl," Jocelyn cooed as she picked up her three–four–year old daughter, Clarissa. "You're growing up too fast on me." She sighed as she heaved Clarissa onto her hip. The little girl wasn't heavy by any means–in fact she was more underweight for her age–but to Jocelyn, it felt like it was just yesterday when she was holding the six-pound baby in her arms for the first time.

And since then, little 'Rissa had developed looks, and a personality that varied from her parents. Jocelyn often received compliments on Clarissa's looks, most people saying she looked just like her mother with the same thick and wavy red hair with the blondish hue in the sunlight, the exact glittering green eyes Jocelyn had, and the similar porcelain skin–Clarissa's was often tanned due to the little girl's excessive need to play out in the mud and dirt–which drove Jocelyn up the wall every time.

"Papa will be home soon," she said to a squealing Clarissa. She then switched over, speaking to the young girl in French. "We'll have cake and play games. Your friend, Aline, will be here soon, too."

"Aline?" Clarissa said, eyes wide, filled with pure innocence.

Jocelyn laughed a bit, "Oui, vos copine, Aline."

Jocelyn put Clarissa down and watched as the little girl quickly plopped down on her bottom and began to mess with the toys

Luke had bought her as an 'early birthday gift.' Jocelyn knew there would be more gifts. Luke loved to spoil his little girl; his little

Clary, as he often called her by.

She sighed as she moved to her daughter's bedroom window. When Clarissa was born, Luke immediately moved them to Moscow, Russia–the city he had grown up in. He claimed that Valentine would never suspect Luke to move to a place so obvious. But Luke had done it. He'd moved back into the ever bustling city.

Hidden in plain sight, she thought wryly.

She enjoyed living in Moscow, but her heart yearned to go back Nice, France. It was the place she'd grown up in, the only place Jocelyn felt she truly knew. But it wasn't safe to back there. And she'd rather not risk it, not with Valentine's threat looming over her head. It was no longer just her, after all.

Jocelyn glanced back at Clarissa, a small smile forming on her lips. She rubbed the back of her neck as she tucked her other arm closely to her side. Her daughter–her pride and joy. For a while now, she'd been feeling as if she were being watched. And now, that instinct had heightened.

She snapped her head back to the window just as the glass shattered. Not a second later a bullet pierced her chest, digging its way until it impaled itself in her heart. Jocelyn looked down as she collapsed, watching in slow motion as blood began to form, staining her petal pink sweater. Faintly, she heard Clarissa screaming out for her all while she cried, terrified of the sudden action.

"Maman! Maman!"

But Jocelyn could respond to nothing as her body closed off. Her breathing shortened, the blood began to cease its flow. Her brain switched off like a light bulb.

Luke opened the front door just in that moment having not heard the shattered glass. Confused at Clarissa's wailing, he sprinted up the stairs, pulling out his gun.

He took three steps at a time, the locket with the words "Forever and Always" engraved and a picture of the three of them inside, jingled in his pocket. It was supposed to be Clary's latest birthday gift.

In the hallway he ran straight into Clary's bedroom, bursting through the door. It squeaked and revealed Clarissa sitting on the ground with her nose runny and her eyes red. Her tiny feet ran to him upon sight. Luke picked her up and ran a hand down her head before his eyes found the shattered glass that been scattered around the floor.

He stepped into the room and nearly dropped Clarissa when he saw Jocelyn. Luke put Clary down quickly, mutely telling her to watch out for the glass and then ran over to his wife, taking her pulse. But there was no pulse to take.

Jocelyn was dead.

From outside the house, a man and a woman passed by, making small talk as they walked. The woman paused when she heard a faint shout.

"Jocelyn!"

"Did you hear something?" The woman asked, speaking fluent Russian.

The man frowned at her before shrugging, "No." He replied.

The woman looked up at the mansion with wary eyes, before she too, shrugged and carried on.

I don't really like this chapter. I didn't get a chance to edit it, because there's a few things I would like to change. But alas, I don't have time. Too much homework and too much school.

But I did get a chance to transform chapter one, so yay. Review if you'd be oh-so kind!

- Nyx H.