The pancakes are burning. 

That was my first thought as I awoke, my head feeling heavy like it was filled with cotton. I smelled the sweetness of the syrup and the smoke of crispy pastry, wrinkling my nose as I closed my eyes again.  

“Bex burnt ‘em...”  

My voice was tired to my own ears and as I went to roll over, the warmth of another body beside me made me flinch. I opened my eyes slowly and looked around, recognizing the dull walls of my room and the sound of crime and panic outside my window.  

“What did she burn?” 

I jumped up and started down at Florence, his drowsy eyes meeting mine. He yawned and curled up again, his arm across my waist pulling me closer to him.  

“What did she burn?” he asked again as I lay back down and began to doze off. 

“Breakfast.” 

It wasn’t three seconds later that Bex ran into the room, fat tears welling up in her eyes as she ripped the multitude of blankets from our warm bodies and started weeping dramatically. 

“I-I walked away for t-two seconds!” She pouted as I growled and searched blindly for my comforter, “Vikky, it’s already two in the afternoon and we’re hungry! You have to help!” 

Florence yawned and sat up slowly, staring back at Bex as she stared at him with wide eyes. 

“Oh...,” Her tone quickly went from whiney to curious, “Did you guys...ya’know...fuck?” 

I had never leapt from my bed faster to shut her up, scrambling to catch her as she screamed and sprinted down the stairs.  

“First you burn breakfast,” I roared as I stomped down the stairs after her, “Then you have the audacity to wake me from the first good sleep I’ve had in YEARS,” Bex continues to scream as I reach into a kitchen drawer and pull forth a glittering cleaver, “And to top it all off, you assume that I’m a whore who took advantage of that poor boy!” 

She finally stopped her screaming as Donny ran in from the living room, wielding a pillow like a shield.  

“Vik, baby, please don’t kill our chauffeur! We need her!” 

Mark started to follow behind Donny, but imminently retreated into the living room as soon as he spotted the knife gripped in my hands.  

“I’ll do what I want after she assumed I was a SLUT!” 

“I never called you a slut Vikky! You know I wouldn’t do that!” She hid behind the table, pointing the stove, “Please just cook us breakfast, oh high and mighty one!” 

Turning around, I gasped, rushing to the stove as flames started to lick at the pan. I threw it into the sink, letting cold water run over it to stop the fire.  

Panting from the excitement, I ran my hand over my face, placing the knife on the counter next to the stove. The pancakes were...beyond saving.  

I sighed deeply, tying back my hair as I stared to remake the pancakes, my heart rate slowing down until its normal rhythm resumed.  

The smoky smell still filled the house as I continued cooking, making my nose wrinkle, “BEX! OPEN A GOD DAMN WINDOW!” 

She hurried from whatever hole she had hidden in and rushed to the door peeking back at me as she propped it open.  

“Are they almost done?” 

My look must have been stern enough to interpret the message: Don’t talk to me, burner of breakfast. 

“Vik?”  

The still sleepy voice of our guest filtered through the kitchen, and I turned, smiling at Florence as he leaned against the counter. 

“Goodmorning sleeping beauty,” His cheeks colored slightly, and he glance to where Bex sat pouting, “How’d you sleep, Princess?” 

Florence cleared his throat and hummed lightly, “You were really warm.” 

His words left my face flushed and Bex giggling before I shot her a glare that could wither flowers. 

“Well, I-I'm glad you were comfortable.” I shrugged and returned to making breakfast, averting my eyes from the pull of his beautiful eyes.  

Beautiful? Really, Evie? I thought to myself with a grimace. Luckily, a knock on the door saved me from further embarrassment.  

“GET THE DOOR BEX, I’M BUSY FIXING YOUR MISTAKE!” 

Bex jumped from the table, tucking her G17 into the waist band of her shorts at the small of her back before she opened the door. A boulder like man pushed past her, and entered the threshold of our home, scanning the kitchen as he removed his sunglasses without much ceremony.  

“I’m here for the boy.” 

He began to close the distance between him and Florence, who now stood rigid and frozen in fear, and I snarled, my lips peeling back as I grabbed the knife from behind me and pointed it at him.  

“I’m gonna need of see some form of identification, please,” I glared at the man and moved to stand in from of Florence. 

Mr. Boulder-looking-guy hesitated, his eyes weary as he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his card. He handed it to me, and I in turn handed it to Florence, instructing him to read over it aloud. While he read from the card, I glanced back a Bex who held six fingers up as she pointed at the man.  He had at least six guns on his person with god-knows how many more weapons hidden within his fitted blazer.

Shit. 

I was out gunned, and this man knew it; his dark eyes glistened with arrogance and a sly smirk graced his lips. Florence handed the card back to me with a shaking hand, clearly uncomfortable with this man.  

“You aren’t one of the Medici gang members,” It wasn’t a question, “Where is his gang? They were supposed to retrieve him.” 

The man cleared his throat, “They were all...previously engaged. I was sent by Director Nao.” 

I barked out a harsh laugh, my tight grin stretching across my face, “I remember when my father’s people were ‘previously engaged.’” 

Bloody memories stung my nose, but my eyes remained dangerous and untouched by emotion. The man growled under his breath, his fingers twitching as he quickly reached for one of his poorly hidden guns. However, I was faster, swinging the cleaver at any part of his body that I could reach. He cried out and struggled to pull out his gun, but he went still as a loud bang echoed from behind him and my cleaver found a cozy little place between his neck and his shoulder. I sidestepped his body as it crashed to the floor, blood soaking the front of my shirt and my hands.  

“How disgustingly desperate.” 

The cold tone of my voice broke the silence of our small home, sending everyone into the routine that we had practiced. Killing someone without a direct kill order was considered illegal (not that anyone cared about the laws anymore) and given the temperament of certain roommates—AHEM IT’S ME—we had prepared ourselves for a worst-case scenario.  

Bex and I made quick work of his body in the brown grass of our backyard, while Donny, Mark, and Alek took care of his buddies out front. I would flip pancakes every now and then to make sure we could actually eat our breakfast, and by 3:30, everyone was seated at the table, all signs of earlier trauma bleached and scrubbed from the floor. 

“How are they?” Florence looked up at me from his heaping stack of pancakes, grinning like a young boy. 

“They’re fantastic...” He mumbled through a mouthful, prompting a chuckle from me as I began to eat my own breakfast.  

“Vik...” I glanced up at Bex when we were done eating, her worried look boring into my gaze, “Can I talk to you for a sec?” 

We left the others at the table and made our way to my room where we settled on the edge of my bed. She swallowed hard and wrung her fingers, scooting closer to me until she could wrap her arms around my waist and hug me. 

“He’s the only heir to a powerful gang...” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“A gang that Davin Nao has dipped his resources into...” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“And all of the sudden, his gang is ‘unable to retrieve’ him...” 

“Yep.” 

“Evie...” 

Even as she spoke, I could feel the cold stone feeling sinking lower and lower in my gut, bringing hot tears to my eyes. I had tried for so long to dissociate myself from the violence that I partook in, keeping my gaze cold and my attitude colder.  

“Leave me alone, Bex,” I tried my best to keep my voice soft, ignoring the part of me that wanted to run far away and never come back, “...and tell Princess to come up here; I need to talk to him.” 

Bex, sweet and understanding as she was, knew the pain that flashed in my eyes as violent memories played like a horror movie in my mind.  

My papa holding me close and telling me that he loved me.  

My father whispering in his hushed tone to his men. 

Their faces as I turned and smiled at them for the last time, believing I was just going to sleep over at Bex’s house for a few days, and then everything would return to normal.  

I hadn’t cried since the day that I wandered into my home, worried when my dads hadn't called me back, only to find the compound in which we lived destroyed and desolate. The bodies of the men and women that had raised me alongside my father and my papa, where ragged with bullet holes and bloodied as that lay strewn throughout the halls that I had called home. Salt and sweat had soaked my face while I searched for my dads, only to find more unrecognizable faces, brutally disfigured in the massacre that had taken everything from me.  

Author's Note:  Vik and Evie/Evulka are the same person!! In order to better hide her identity, Evulka (or Evie; that was her childhood nickname) changed her name to Vikia Slovak. This is explained in the next chapter by Vik, but I wanted to clear up any confusion.