Page 2 of Power

I did it for my sisters, Laya and Avra, their faces a constant reminder of hope amidst despair, and for the family name that weighed on my soul like an unbreakable vow. And fueled by a burning desire for retribution, I fought to ensure that those monstrous kidnappers, the very architects of my suffering, would never claim another piece of me.

I wasn’t the person I used to be. They had stolen so much—moments, memories, and parts of my spirit that could never be returned.

Yet, with each furious day spent training on the cold concrete of the shooting range, at the gym where sweat and determination molded my battered body into something formidable, and at dawn when I hauled myself out of bed, fighting against the weight of despair, I vowed with every heartbeat that they would never steal anything else from me.

The images still danced at the edge of my vision, and whispers of past horrors echoed in the silence. I clung to the hope that through grueling daily training and therapy, that paralyzing fear would one day dissolve into nothingness.

Still, my impatience prickled beneath my skin, driving me to the shooting range before sunrise and to the gym every day to perfect my fighting skills.

It may be obsessive, but I reminded myself that I was paving a way forward, each moment a step away from the darkness. In an unexpected twist that still left me in awe, I had secured a spot in Harvard’s prestigious online MBA program, all because my sisters had dared me to take the plunge and apply.

Now, I was navigating my studies through the digital realm, staying with my sister Laya and brother-in-law Niko in the sun-drenched hills of Greece while focusing on my recovery.

As I took a moment to reload my gun, a familiar vibration buzzed in my pocket. The distinctive haptic pattern signaled that it was nearly time for my scheduled meeting with my sisters. Just one more round, I thought, and then I’d join them.

I shifted into a firing stance, feet planted firmly on the ground, and squeezed the trigger, watching as the ammo flew and the paper target in the distance burst apart.

A satisfied grin crept onto my face as I pressed the button beside me, bringing the shredded target closer. A small laugh escaped me when I saw the sheer destruction. The paper was riddled with holes, particularly in the areas of the head and groin.

I plucked the target from the clip, holding it up, and spun around to face my bodyguard. Sebastian, a towering figure with a steely gaze, was one of the Vitalis family’s most trusted men, now tasked with shadowing my every move.

He was always there, never letting me out of his sight. Sometimes, it annoyed me, but I genuinely valued the security he and his team offered.

Being a Vitalis came with its own hazards, as my sisters and I bore the weight of a legacy riddled with enemies. The Vitalis name was both a blessing and a curse, a gilded cage with invisible bars.

From an early age, I understood the peril tied to my father’s bloodline.

I was just a little girl when the truth of our vulnerability struck me like a lightning bolt. It was a dark night, one that reeked of blood and betrayal, and in an instant, I lost both my mother and father. In the aftermath, my only family consisted of my sisters and Vik, my father’s second and most trusted advisor. They became my guardians and protectors.

They raised me to be strong, to fight, and to survive.

That strength bred a longing for independence, a desire to live like everyone else, to be carefree and unburdened by the name I bore. For a time, I had forgotten the ever-present danger of being a Vitalis.

Then we’d come back to Greece, the land of our ancestors, to reclaim all that was stolen from us and to stand tall in the face of those who sought to see us fall. I’d had only a vague notion of the sacrifices our ambitions demanded.

From the very beginning, I fought against the constant invasion of my space, determined to stand on my own. In the end, Vik had shaped me into a fighter whose accuracy exceeded even my sisters’, regardless of how lethal their aim.

A chill crawled down my back, while an ember-like burn crept up the back of my throat. That day in the library had reshaped my reality. One moment, I was lost among timeworn art books, and the next, rough hands forced a bag over my head and dragged me away.

I had refused to let my security detail crowd me during class research, and the consequences had rained down.

Ozias Xenos, who was responsible for my parents’murders and the reason my sisters and I fled to Prague, had orchestrated the kidnapping. I became a pawn in his quest for control and power and a tool for exacting revenge on his son, Elias, for betraying him and choosing Avra after their marriage.

Yet, I carried the burden for flouting well-established rules of safety in my world.

Sebastian’s constant presence wrapped around me like an unseen shield.

Over time, our bond had evolved into an effortless friendship. I held the target aloft to display my shooting skill, and Sebastian’s sly grin conveyed more than words.

“Aren’t you supposed to aim for the head, Cali?”

I shrugged, a crooked grin pulling at my lips. “Some men need their balls shot off.”

“I can’t argue with that fact. But this?” He arched an eyebrow while tapping the target’s crotch area. “You’ve obliterated this guy’s entire pelvis.”

“Yeah, well, he probably deserved it,” I replied, passing him the handle of my pistol.

He arranged it neatly beside the other weapons I’d gathered that day.

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