One

                                    

                                          
Good boys go to heaven, bad boys bring heaven to you, but bad men let you rule hell beside them. This book is for all the girls who like their men a little rough around the edges, and a woman who takes no bullshit. 
Enjoy <3 
PS. Please note that this story contains trigger warnings such as rape, substance abuse, gory violence and vulgar language. Reader discretion is advised. 
Elena Patel 
I stare out the window of my bedroom, listening to the calming sound of the rain as two gun shots pierce the air. I never would've thought my father's business and choice of life would result in things like this happening on the daily. He takes his precautions, sure, but having my mother and I in the house while he handles his work has always been something that bothers me. His irresponsibility and irrationality landed him in trouble. I support his work fully, but his quest for power has been set to doom our family from the beginning. 
Today is the second day in a row that someone has been shot in our home, and it's leaving me to wonder for what earthly reason does the owner of an architectural firm have to be murdering people. Baffling, definitely, horrifying, absolutely. The most odd looking people have been seen inside this house and for a religious and cultural man, my father is extremely handy with his gun. I peer through my blinds and watch as Clifford and Marcel remove a black bag into the courtyard and load it into the Defender.
The gate opens and they disappear, as is the norm when people die in our home. It's not very often that people cause trouble like this in Delhi. Being in Rajasthan growing up was far quieter and safer, and things like this never happened. Ever since we moved into the richer part of Delhi after my father's business took off, everything changed. He became an affiliate to international hotel developers and leading hoteliers, his main investors in New York, Milan and London. He became very well known, and time was coming for us to leave India and head to New York, where he could expand his firm in a more central area. Since he was Dehli's number one self made millionaire by dollar standards, the move to New York was an easy decision. Living in a city surrounded by people who know the meaning of wealth, would kill for it and die for it at the same time. I guess we're part of that now. It's really fucking weird. As accustomed as I've grown to this lifestyle, I have no desire in being a part of my father's mistakes. 
Thor's head is resting on my lap, his ears shooting up with every sound he hears. He's shedding all over my clothes, but he's the only sense of comfort I have around here so I always keep him close. I page through the catalog of latest fashion designs and trends from the leading designers, but I can't focus. It's a reminder that I need to call the agency and tell them I won't be modeling in India anymore. But that wasn't a real job anyway, as my father said, even though it paid pretty well. But right now, all I can think about is who died in our house. Mel, my security detail, knocks on my room door. I know it's him, since he's the only one who knocks. There's no such thing as privacy in an Indian home, no matter how old you are. 
"Ms. Patel, do you have any more boxes for me to take downstairs?" he asks, and I cock my head at him. "who did my father just kill?" I ask, and he drops his eyes to the ground. "ma'am, I-" he pauses, and we both stop to listen to my father's footsteps on the staircase. "you're excused, Mel." he says, and my father comes into my room shutting the door behind him. "what happened downstairs?" I ask him, Thor sits up right whenever anyone comes too close to me. "trouble with some Italians. They want me gone." he tells me, and I stare at him, no clue what to say. He probably fucked something up. 
"what do we do?" I ask, and he takes a seat. "We leave for New York tomorrow morning, the house is ready for us to move in. I'll take it from there." he says, and I nod. "what happens to Ava?" I ask him, my dead brother's daughter will still be here once we leave. "she's not our responsibility, she will be fine here." he tells me, and stands up to leave. I wonder why he even bothered to sit in the first place. "you need to leave money for her," I tell him, and he stares blankly at me. 
"you need to get married, Elena. Hopefully New York will give us better luck." he says, and walks away. "is that all my purpose is? Find a husband, bear children then die?" I sigh, feeling my heart grow heavy. My father shakes his head. "it is your duty. Things have been hard enough. You wasted the last few years taking pictures of yourself and modeling. Don't be difficult." he says. I stay quiet, I know better than to argue with him. He's always hated what I chose to do, hated the idea of me modeling even though I know I'm good at it. He looks at me briefly before leaving my room. Despite all our disagreements, we're still extremely close. My father just chooses to show his love to me in his own way. Maybe he's right. I need to find a husband, get out of this house. The thought made my skin crawl, knowing that it would mean more of these days, as well as the fact that I knew he was going to try and get me married soon. I'm twenty three and I'm about to become a burden if I don't marry. It took longer to find me a match since I wasn't... pure. I shake my head to try and clear the thoughts. 
I look around my room seeing a few of my boxes still here, feeling the emptiness. Moving across the globe, a whole new city, it felt like I was leaving a piece of myself here, yet somehow I felt like everything was about to change, for the better. Our life started out normally, like any other family here in India. A handful of years and my fairly intelligent dad, and here we are. It's amazing how much can change in so little time. Unforgettable moments and faces lie ahead in New York, but darkness will always be around the corner.