This is a sequel to my first story The Last Straw. I wanted to do something more with story without adding on to the old one.
Prologue
France thought he was gone and that he was dead. It had been years since that night and he was forced to watch as France had gotten his life back into order. Well, at least the way things used to be except for one added addition, his close friendship with England. Apparently they had become closer while he was gone. They would still fight with the same ferocity, yet he could tell it was different. It pissed him off!
The only thing he was happy about was that France had forced himself to give in to the way things were even though he still wanted change. That was going to be his trump card in a way. As he had cultivated his new plan while sitting in the shadows waiting and watching in disgust he had set his sights bigger. A whole lot bigger than last time…they would never know what hit them.
He looked through the window one last time. A grin with no humor or warmth crept onto his face as he watched his enemy give him more of his power. Yes, this time I will win…
