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CHAPTER 1

This was my life

"Dad, even if this goes against your decisions, this more than anything else, is something I won't allow you to push me into!" I objected through an unrecognizable voice. My heart was at its worst; Jammed inside it was the feeling of anxiousness, anger, the desire to rebel, to just walk by my own free will and live the life I was refused to have. A normal life. The atmosphere was drenched in silence, an aura compatible to the dark and eeriness of my dad's office. The only evidence of life was the streak of light that had burst through the crack of one of the blinds Mr. Tone had turned. Daddy just sat there, both hands serving as a cushion under his chin; his forehead, carved in with wrinkles of anger and his eyes, shooting out from his head like a dagger. They glistened like the sun but were the color of a dead sky. Pitch black. He slowly shifted his glare towards Mr. Tone, who had fallen into a state of suspense. The tension was killing the poor man, just as it was me. If anything, daddy was adding to it with those redundant glares of his.

If you really want to know what my situation is exactly, I'll explain. When I was five, I remember wanting to grow up and fall in love with my prince charming and live happily ever after in not necessarily a castle but in some run down house—which, in this day and age was a normal house compared to a castle. Now here I am being forced into some arranged marriage by my father to inherit more riches. And when you think I'd at least get an attractive beauty that was armed with good looks, I get Richard, the blonde light bulb who picks money from his nose. I already know the rusty iron rule wealthy families abided by and it's never a pleasure to hear. This is why I labeled it rusty and iron instead of gold. It goes, "Wealthy makes wealthy wealthier". In other words, wealthy should get married to wealthy, and if you chose otherwise like getting married to the poor, your heartless family might not be hearty enough to actually send a suitcase sailing through your bedroom window. My clarification? Haughtiness. It's an easy material to read. Where there's money, there's pride and it doesn't get any more selfish than that. My dad however is much more different. He never backed down from a fight and was very crafty in making things the way he wanted it be. My preparation = calculating my death.

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Mr. Tone reacted to daddy's glare and stepped forward declaring the revival of his existence. He used his right hand index to adjust some expensive looking lens unto his nasal bone, cleared his throat then spoke. "Miss Sarah," he begun, "You should know the consequences of rebelling against your father right? You and I both know that this is for your own good and the company's reputation along with your dad's. This is not the time to be playing some silly rat game. Show the sir your gratitude then take your leave," he ordered strictly. I was ticked. Mr. Tone was tall, skinny and muscular. Buff for the matter of fact. He wore glasses but they sinisterly subtracted beauty from his deep ocean blue eyes. His hair was curly and brown and enjoyed dancing on his beautiful long lashes. He was the splitting image of a perfect boyfriend. Mr. Tone is nineteen but his name is cunning and I get fed up with it. The first time I had ever heard of the boy, I thought he was an old man only to find out he was that young. Cian Thorsone, his real name was mercilessly stripped from him the minute daddy saw his potential. Daddy had links to several branches within the government who had the ability to fabricate profiles and backgrounds and have them registered as legit identities, thus Cian Thorsone's Parker Tone a.k.a Mr. Tone. This perfect figure of a boyfriend though, is a relentless bastard, a genius wearing the infamous white coat, an A-list spy recruited by daddy when he was only the age of 8; One who obliged as daddy's best man signaling the green light to almost every settlement daddy had pronounced settled or offering up something better for daddy to consider. He more than anyone else was someone I didn't want to hear those words coming from. But it seemed as if daddy taught him to remember his lines and gun me down with them after I protested against the Richard Newton Fixed Marriage Association.

"God I can't believe this," I snapped. "Daddy, you're a hard working business man who holds conferences and private meetings. You can very well speak for yourself yet you have Mr. Tone barrel your responsibilities as a father? I'm your daughter you know!—or maybe it's just you haven't accepted me yet because I was your estranged bastard of a child wh—"

"SARAH!" he vulgarly roared, interrupting me before I could finish a forbidden sentence. He fisted his hand and rammed it into the side of his desk like an elephant would its tusks. I jumped out of sudden fright and Mr. Tone remained looking like a German soldier. Dennis Atlin was a man that people feared. It took real crap to stand up to him and real crap to endure punishment by him. But this was going way too far for me. When I was six years of age, my only guardian, Nana, my grandmother, passed away from old age. I was an estranged child from my father, who to Nana was a dead man and an abandoned child to my mom who passed away in a car accident. Both parents I've never known. On the day of Nana's funeral, a husky looking man by the name of Dennis Atlin appeared and claimed me as his daughter. When I think about it, the timing was coincidentally strange. Nana's old time friend, Zen, was an oriental man who was very protective of me and wouldn't dare hand me over to Dennis. The only thing I could remember after that was when they agreed to discuss some form of custody thing. I was left with Zen that night and about two days later when he went out to meet my father, he disappeared and never came back. I've always wondered what exactly happened to him. Daddy said he requested money and when given, he took off and forgot about me. But I wouldn't buy that story even if my life depended on it. I was and am a curious kid and to top it all off, the way daddy spoke of Zen, didn't sound like Zen at all. I felt that somewhere in between his story, he lied.

Daddy continued, "You are nothing but a spoiled child! I've given you EVERYTHING! Yet this is how you thank me?" Oh great, so now I'm the bad kid. I admit. I was being heartless when I brought up the past but I had no idea it was a crime to not want everything. Everything in daddy's eyes was money and power. He's never allowed me explore outside since the day he took me in. I was caged inside like a bird not having anyone to call a friend. The car he gave me, I'm not allowed to drive. But I'll tell you what, I AM allowed to look at it from my bedroom window. My life was just ridiculous and sad.

"Dad," I said, "given me what? A car and pocket money? Materialistic things aren't everything. They were never required," I replied. "I can give them all back to you, but in return you'd have to hand over a stress-less life to me! I'm a sixteen year old girl who has never lived being a child because I had to be responsible and I had to follow behind you because you closed every other door that was open for me. I at least deserve this much dad. Cancel the marriage." My stomach was hurting. My nerves acted like deadly venom, stinging my core to the point it ached. Presumably my legs would give way and I in turn would crumble. I inhaled, held my breath, clutched my fists, exhaled and dove in again. "That's all I'm asking for dad. The one thing I'm in control of is my love life and—"

"ENOUGH!" he yelled again. I think I've really done it this time. Crossed a line I wasn't supposed to. I'm hurting him, I think, but if I don't do this now, things will be the same forever. He lifted his thick muscular arms and slammed them down onto his desk, almost destroying it. And just as I thought that would be it, he made a whip out of one arm and slapped off the files that were lying on it. He was physical and enraged, but who wouldn't be? Hearing something you've always never wanted to hear. "Leave right now!" he screamed, targeting his finger towards my head, "You've surpassed my expectations in your rebellion Sarah! After this, you won't dare repeat what you've done today!" Okay and just what was he going to do? I think I've already suffered the worst in this daughterly position. "Mr. Tone," he snapped sharply, "Page Secretary Yuna and have her arrange for a boarding school! I want the most expensive!"

"What?... A boarding WHAT?" My mouth fell.

"Mr. Tone, get her out of my sight," he ordered. Hesitation was killed and time was on his side. Mr. Tone grabbed me by the arm and I fought for him to release me. He wasn't using the best of his strength and daddy knew because of the way he had been scrutinizing Mr. Tone's actions. Daddy has always been a busy person finding ways to consume more and more money. He was a super protective freak towards me, almost like a precious gem to him, yet he didn't see what I was falling into. I think he'll eventually figure out that part of it. But when he doe's, life for everyone will become more of a hell than it already is; I was playing a dangerous game.

Mr. Tone jerked me through the door and I stumbled and fell unto my buttocks. He looked at me sympathetically then closed the door behind him. I was trying hard. So hard not to cry because that was the closest I've ever gotten to actually having a normal conversation with daddy, but it took a mere 9 minutes and ended with me being thrown away into a boarding school. I should be happy right? Because this would be the first time in a long time I'll get to feel reality again. But just thinking about it made me feel poisoned. Why was he always so distant with me? I just couldn't understand it.

"Miss Sarah." Mr. Tone said, lowering himself to me.

"Sarah," I corrected him. He turned his head and looked through the glass wall, watching the city cars from below drive by.

"Sarah," he whispered, "You should go home." Right then and there, tears relentlessly fell from my eyes now matter how hard I was trying to suppress them. I wiped my face with my sweater and painfully uttered an "Okay."

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One day later…

I slashed the zipper of a pink and black duffle bag open and messily threw in t-shirts, blouses, socks, jeans, make-up—whatever I could find. Cian was seated in the bean bag I had ever-so-desperately wanted to punch and he watched me. He was hot. Really hot, and I didn't know how I was able to keep myself composed around him. Whenever we were in daddy's presence we'd always have to act as if we hated each other; Him following orders like a brash spy was supposed to and I irritated by his presence. In the end, daddy thought he was beyond qualified for the job of looking after me. And did I mention that included not falling in love with me, ordering me around, bugging me, teasing me, staring and stalking? Well. He completed all of the above with the exception of one.

Every time I turned around, he would be there looking right into my eyes, but all I could do was move on and grab something to throw in. I was seriously itching to scream. Why wasn't he saying anything? — Something for Pete's sake! God this is killing me! I thought. I flipped the cover of the duffle down and spun around hands on hips.

"How long are you going to stay here?" I asked feeling annoyed.

"Until you calm down," he retorted.

"Then why stare?"

"It's fun to watch you," he smirked.

"Fun to watch your girlfriend pack her bags? Well that's very thoughtful." I slumped over as if depressed then dragged my feet over to him and sat. He stroked my hair.

"Star," he said resting himself back, "I really don't think we should be doing this right now."

"You know, you look extremely good in your white coat. I could actually fall for you all over again," I told him.

"Your not listening to me are you?" he said.
I shook my head. "Why should I? If I were to compare the amount of years we've dated to the amount we kissed anyone on this planet would think I'm a virgin."

"God Sarah, how many times have we been over this?" He eased forward and slipped himself out from under me. "First of all, you are a virgin and second, it's not fun keeping it a secret from your dad. You can't be kissed every time you want to. "

I threw myself back into the bean bag and reached for the roof, spreading all five fingers. "You're really mean Cian… wanna run away together?"

"No," He replied.

"We could live by the beach where the sunset's most beautiful, and the stars—my favorite, would sparkle like kings and queens in the sky. Daddy wouldn't be around to ruin it for us. We could live in peace and have 2 kids after we get married."

"Are you out of your mind?" he shivered, "There's no way we'd make it that far in life with your father still breathing."

"Are you suggesting we kill him?" I snickered.

Cian rolled his eyes. "He's an obstinate man," he said, "I do have the capability to do that, but I might consider your true feelings," he ended through a smirk.

"Cian!" I strucked in. I grabbed one of the tiny pillows beside me and nailed him in the head. He ducked, but ducked right into it. I giggled and he charged right after me, throwing himself in as I rolled over. Now we were both laughing. I loved Cian. When my world would slowly close up and become darker as things had seemed impossible, he was always there to open it back up for me. It made me feel as if I could live my life being strangled by my father, but depend on Cian to keep me alive. I hoped that it wasn't just the feeling of being in love. I wanted it to be legit and permanent. I looked over to him and like nature was drawing two opposites together, he leaned in and branded me with an extreme kiss of seduction. A tingling feeling ran through my body and it was piercing, every time he touched me. And this right here, this was my life.

Thank you very much for reading!

I'm trying to make this sound as interesting as possible and like I said previously

I'll step up on my pace because I don't want to draw it out too much and bore you guys.

Please review and let me know how you like the first CHPT. Even if it's one, reading them really keeps me going.

Thank you! :)

**Also, if any of you have ideas regarding what Sarah's boarding school should be like, feel free to mssg me. I'm thinking something gothic looking but not necessarily gothic. I'm trying to pull something spooky and cool and trying to figure out how I'll write Raven in.

Chapter 2 will be up on Monday.

peace out xxx