Chapter 1

The sun shone mercilessly, like it was still trying to cling on to the last days of the season. Summer.

Summer in California has always being unforgiving. Still is.

The yellow firey ball in the sky only reminded me that I was no longer in Europe but in North America.

I was the last person to exit the plane, or so I thought but clearly my initial understanding was proved otherwise when a man with an unusually large suitcase nudged me from behind and my temper rose faster than a rocket.

Well here is the thing; I hated being pushed especially from behind.

I turned around and glowered at the man who seems to be in his late fourties and was wearing a confused frown.

"What?" He asked innocently.

I simply let out a tired sigh and went down the stairs of the plane with my knapsack quickly and found who was waiting at the airport for me. Someone I didnt want to see.

My Mother.

"Georgia-" she began but I interrupted.

I really hated my full name.

"George, not Georgia. Yes?"

She cleared her throat twice.

"Welcome back". She said softly.

I knew she was trying to be polite but I scoffed loudly.

"I didn't go on a vacation, Olivia. I was expelled from school and have to bring my arse to this goddamn country".

I say bittetly as I continued walking while she tried to keep up my pace.

Keyword; tried.

You see my mom is 5.3 and I am 5.11,which is pretty tall. I automatically turn heads which as much as it was flattering it was annoying.

I eventually slowed down and she called an uber. It took nine minutes for the uber to arrive leaving us standing awkwardly in a really tense atmosphere.

When we got to the house, I was borderline hyperventilating. Feeling lightheaded and a bit nauseous. My palms clammy and my breathing uncomfortable as I forced unwanted memories away from my mind.

I shut my eyes tightly as I counted from zero to nine repeatedly until I started feeling stupid standing on the porch with a nervous looking mother.

"Honey-". I hear her.

"George" I snapped harshly while glaring at her.

She cleared her throat again and took a cautious step backwards making me scoff. Again.

"I have to head back to work now. Here are your own keys. Your room is the second door to the left, upstairs"

She drops the keys in my palm. It had a circular gold keychain with the Eiffel Tower and 'I love Paris' engraved on it. She probably got it as as a souvenir on her last trip.

"Its my house, I'll stay where I bloody want"

I wasn't lying. My grandfather willed it to me amongst other things. Companies inclusive.

She briskly walked away and drove off in her expensive looking BMW.

Obviously you are enjoying my grandfather's money, I thought sourly as I entered the house. There is no way a nurse could afford such a car.

When my grandfather died, he willed every single property he owned to me. I was almost eleven then. Not like he didn't have children, he has seven of them, four males and three females; Jude, Nancy, Oliver, Ariana, Blake, Theodore and Olivia.

My mother was uncharacteristically his favorite. Not because she was his last child, but because his wife died giving birth to her, he always said she was the last gift my grandma gave to him.

But my mom broke his heart along the line by running of to be with the love of her life. A Mafia King, a British man (quite ambitious if you asked me) who is already married to an Italian woman, the widow of the former Mafia King thereby making him the current one. The most rational thing my mother could do was to work in his mansion as a maid and help the Mafia King cheat on his wife.

But unfortunately she had me.

My supposed father had to send my mom away with me to escape the wrath of his wife. The woman had already poisoned Olivia twice, trying to get rid of me. But things went down the hill with my mother.

Unable to be apart from the love of her life, she turned to alcohol for comfort, not regarding the fact that she had a child with a fairly underdeveloped heart to breast feed.

Me.

That isn't enough reason for me to have hated her of course, neither is it because she made sure I had seen the inside of an emergency room much more times than an average adult.

It was just one thing she did-knowingly or unknowingly-that made a multiplication to my greatest fear.