Pampered By The Assassin Family
I drowned in freezing pool water, the mocking laughter of the elite Savage family echoing in my ears.
When I opened my eyes, I was an eight-year-old orphan again, right on the day those monsters came to adopt me.
Terrified of repeating my hellish past, I ran down the hallway and desperately grabbed the shirt of a random, dumpy IT guy, begging him to take me instead.
I thought I had chosen a weak, boring suburban dad to hide behind.
But I was completely wrong.
My new mom greeted me with a ceramic tactical knife hidden in her apron.
My clumsy dad sliced dinner ribs with the terrifying precision of a seasoned hitman.
My ten-year-old brother was a dead-eyed sociopath who immediately calculated my bone density.
They were a family of lethal underworld monsters, yet they frantically pretended to be a normal, pathetic household just for me.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 5
Morning sunlight sliced through the living room blinds, casting warm stripes across the carpet.
Carrie had burst into Ava's room at dawn, dragging her out of bed. Now, Ava stood in the hallway, wearing a stiff denim skirt with lace trim and two tight pigtails.
Carrie patted Ava's cheek, looking incredibly proud of her work, before heading downstairs to cook bacon.
Ava let out a heavy sigh. She walked into the living room. Cody sat cross-legged on the sofa, staring at a scrambled Rubik's cube. His dark eyes were intensely focused.
Ava sat down next to him, trying to build a normal sibling bond.
"Those are really hard," Ava said casually. "I never figured out how to solve one."
Cody didn't look up. His long fingers suddenly blurred. A sharp, rapid-fire series of plastic clicks filled the air.
Click-clack-snap.
Less than three seconds later, Cody slammed the perfectly solved cube onto the glass coffee table.
He turned his head slowly. "Spatial logic reconstruction. Time elapsed: two point eight seconds." He stared dead into Ava's eyes. "Your cognitive processing speed is severely defective."
Ava choked on her own breath. Her mouth formed a hard line. This kid was a complete nightmare.
She stood up, deciding not to argue with a ten-year-old psychopath, and walked down the hall toward Jerimiah's study. She needed to see the one normal person in this house.
The study door was cracked open. The rapid clatter of a mechanical keyboard drifted out.
Ava pushed the door open quietly, wanting to surprise him.
She poked her head in. Jerimiah sat in a leather chair, his back to the door. In front of him were three massive, curved monitors.
Waterfalls of green code cascaded down the left screen. The center screen displayed a high-resolution, live satellite tracking map.
Jerimiah held a thick, heavy hardcover book in his left hand.
Ava took a step closer and read the title aloud. "Advanced Server Farm Thermal Cloaking and Anti-Surveillance?"
Jerimiah's entire body flinched. It was a violent, full-body jolt.
He slammed the book shut. His right hand shot under the desk, his fingers instinctively hitting a hidden mechanical switch mounted beneath the wood, preparing to purge the system.
He realized the voice belonged to Ava. He froze.
In a fraction of a second, Jerimiah forced his facial muscles to relax into his usual, dull expression. He spun his chair around.
At the exact same moment, his left foot stomped down on a red pedal hidden under the desk.
The screens flickered. The satellite maps and code vanished, instantly replaced by bright, colorful stock market graphs and a massive game of Solitaire.
Ava blinked, pointing at the heavy book in his lap. "What are you reading that for?"
Jerimiah cleared his throat. He pushed his thick glasses up his nose. Sweat prickled at his hairline.
"Well, kiddo," Jerimiah stammered, his brain working in overdrive. "Servers get really hot. If I don't hide the heat signature, the EPA drones will spot it. The fines for energy waste are huge."
Ava's eyes widened in understanding. Of course. He was a struggling IT guy trying to save money on his electric bill by dodging government regulations. It made perfect sense.
"That's really smart, Dad," Ava said, looking at him with genuine admiration.
Jerimiah stared at her bright, trusting eyes. A cold drop of sweat rolled down his spine. He let out a shaky breath, thanking God for his reflexes.
You may also like
7.7
My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark.
He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity.
They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund.
It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation.
When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring.
"I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this."
In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger.
That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life.
Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand.
How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly?
Why did they have to tear my entire life apart?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago.
But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort.
It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly.
7.6
Dumped by her fiancé just days before their wedding, only to watch him marry someone else-what would you do? Cry yourself to sleep, or dress to kill for revenge?
That was Elaina's reality. She's no Cinderella, yet she lost a shoe while recklessly crashing her ex's wedding. Her revenge plan went up in flames, but fate had other ideas, throwing her into the path of Alister-a man who is handsome, charismatic, and dangerous... and ironically, the person closest to her ex-fiancé.
Amidst heartbreak and vendettas, Alister paints her world in new colors, turning Elaina into a modern-day Cinderella. But will this story end in "happily ever after," or is Alister merely leading her into a much more dangerous game?
9.7
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.
9.0
My ex-husband returned after a three-year bet, ready to reclaim me and the son he thought was his. He had no idea that I'd secretly aborted his child, divorced him, and remarried the day he left. His world was about to come crashing down.
His delusion turned deadly when he and his manipulative best friend, Haylee, kidnapped my son, Leo.
I found them at his family's mansion, with Leo suffocating from a severe allergic reaction to a dog they were forcing him to play with. Elliot physically restrained me, scolding me for overreacting while Haylee giggled as my son turned blue.
At the hospital, as Leo fought for his life, Elliot grabbed my arm, demanding to know who the man standing beside me was. He was convinced this was all a game to make him jealous.
That's when my real husband, billionaire Gregory Morton, stepped forward.
"Since when is this child yours, Elliot?"
8.1
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.