VII

It was seeing Mark in her room along with the rest of Emily's gang clouding their room that broke her peace. He was laughing as he halted his assault on her funny bones as he made a joke about something she didn't catch. Natasha sat on her bed, apparently doing her nails and the rest were scattered around.

Their dorm rooms were quite large, however with everyone there it made it feel small and stifling, prompting Bella to turn right at the door with the aim to return later, when her space wasn't as infested anymore. However, before she could leave, someone spoke up

"If it isn't belladonna, where have you been hiding?" it was mark that asked, and she unconsciously met his icy blues head on as he smiled at her in question

"It's just Bella. And I wouldn't think m whereabouts to be your business" she replied. A few ooohs, were heard around the room

"Ouch, why so defensive?" it was Kent that asked from the seat near her study table. Seeing her computer on, she couldn't help the twitch of her right eye at the invasion of her personals, however, she kept from reacting, for there wasn't anything they'd find that would tell them of who she really was. Calming down she shrugged.

"I'm not being defensive, simply honest"  

"She's probably been out and about chasing money like the probable gold digger she is, did you know she had your brother send her gifts?" Natasha said, shooting the question toward Mark, who only shook his head amused, only by how wrong. Natasha's assumption was, he knew that Bella hadn't intended to warrant his brother's attention at all.  

"I don't think she's the type" he defended lightly, his smile the knowing kind thatonly made Natasha sneer.  

"What has she fed you Genovese men, now you're defending her?" not caring to listen to the ridiculous conversation any longer, she turned to leave.  

Perhaps it was the fact that he had been within her space that she had a dream she hadn't dreamt for years now. A dream that would awaken emotions she had tried so hard to lock away only to never set them free again. It was a dream that  

would come to make here resent the Genovese like she had before. 

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Friday night was just like every other night in the Sinclair house, a magnificence on its own, it was not necessarily majestic, but it was big yet homey enough for the Sinclair family. It stood on a firm foundation, two stories high, surrounded by the luscious green grass that Mr Sinclair made sure, no matter how busy his days always were, to have it mowed perfectly, not to forget the pool in the back yard kept company by the outdoor set of furniture.

Just a regular well-kept house it seemed, to the outer eye, nothing suspicious but a home to a very happy toddler with two hardworking yet loving parents any child could ask for. Mrs Sinclair occupied the kitchen this late Friday night, adorned by her favourite apron, making a warm delicious meal that promised to be filling to whomever was to eat it. With the wonderful aroma wafting in the air, the woman stirred the boiling pot of stew, raising the long wooden spoon that has seen the days of hitting a particular manly hand that dared dip a finger in it, now brought a smidgen of soup to the woman's puckered lips ready to grace her tongue with the beefy taste of the soup.

Satisfied with her cooking, the women hummed in pleasure turning the stove off and just about to go set the table for dinner. In that moment, the kitchen door opened and the woman turned to see who it was, only to find the culprit being the man of her dreams, her husband, who was quite a charmer, ever chivalrous and the reason for her toddler running straight into his arms with a giggle that soon transformed into a happy laughter from the onslaught of kisses given by Mr Sinclair.  

Mrs Sinclair could only smile in contentment at the sight, entirely forgetting to chastise her daughter for running as she always had every chance she got, with that thought fading in her mind, she shook her head.  

"Daddy, me missed youw ah lwot today" the little girl said in a jumbled up toddler mumble as she hid her face in the crook of her father's neck, who could only chuckle for having heard those exact words the day before and every other day before that.  

"You meant "I" missed you a lot today Bellaboo" he said correcting her, and she could only giggle in the utmost joy having taken what he said as if he was saying he missed her, and glad that her father missed her just as much.  

"Was I not missed as well?" Mrs Sinclair said with tease laced in her tone, when her husband was heading over to the kitchen counter.

"Oh don't be silly, you know I missed you too hunny" he said as he went to place a kiss on her cheek in sign of affection and the woman hummed in satisfaction making her way to the table.

Mr Sinclair placed the little bundle of joy he was carrying right on the floor so he could make an escape upstairs where he would freshen up for dinner, already feeling irritated by the feel of his clothes on his skin.

"How about you help mommy set the table Bellaboo" it being a statement he said to his daughter, she had nodded with a smile in agreement bouncing her way to her mother, and Mr Sinclair had taken the chance to be on his way upstairs.  

Meanwhile, the mother and daughter carried on with the table, Mrs Sinclair having given her Daughter Bella the napkins to place, that being the easiest task she knew her daughter could handle. Moments later dinner had ensued, and light chatter amongst the small family of three had begun to fill the air with chuckles and precious laughter at the stories little Bella told about her day at kindergarten, some of those stories being about how she punched a boy who had tried to kiss her, resulting in a punishment of a timeout and no candy for the rest of the day.

Both parents knew Bella loved her candy, but most of all, Mr Sinclair couldn't help the proud belly laughter that wretched out of him at the story, he felt proud and part of him satisfied at the thought of her daughter being able to look after herself when they would no longer be around to do so themselves. He knew the dangers of their profession and only hoped it wouldn't affect his daughter in any way.  

Being part of the biggest assassination company, the dangers to his family were endless, most especially his daughter, for his wife was too part of the company, that is where they first met after all. They were like two souls drawn to one another yet after the first impression that was not charming at all, they had certain hate toward one another but somehow ended up together in the end.

However, for the time being, his wife was on time out, taking a few years off for their daughter, he went to work glad she would be near to protect their child. An hour had gone by like a minute in the Sinclair household, proof that time does fly when one's having fun. Bella had retreated up to her room to get ready for bed, having left her parents reclining on the couch downstairs reminiscing on their days.

Bella was just about done with brushing her teeth in the bathroom when she heard a loud disturbing commotion downstairs. Being curious and oblivious to the irony of fate, she barely braced herself for the sight she saw, frozen on the last stair, eyes wide with a waterfall of tears down her cheeks and her little hand enclosing her mouth to prevent a loud gasp that would expose of her presence.

Before her, knelt a sobbing father at the loss of his shot wife that now lay in a pool of her own blood, lifeless.  

"Now ain't this some sight boys, the all mighty Sinclair on his knees choking on his own tears" the man with a gun pointed at Mr Sinclair had said, his tone menacing and cold, dry and humourless, his face pulled in a snarl as he uttered those taunting words. The four men that stood, bulky in build, guns in hand had all let out a chuckle as if amused by the scene, and that gave away that the man who had spoken must have been  

the leader.  

Everyone that knew Mr Sinclair, knew he was no man to crumble easy, in fact he rejoiced in the face of danger, however, as his wife, his beautiful wife lay dead on the tiled bloody floor, he couldn't help but crumble, for the woman was his life, the reason he lived and prevailed, his heart only broke ever more at the thought of his daughter, what fate lay ahead for her, for the man that stood before him he knew pretty well he was the devil himself, cold and merciless, Mr Sinclair could only pray he spare his daughter.  

A resounding second shot had rung out as the cold nameless man shot his gun the second time, as he could no longer stand a sight of the man before him in tears. How weak, he had thought to himself. He was no fan of showing weakness such as emotion, he barely graced his own family with any, therefore, seeing a man in tears and shameless of it truly irked him

"Disgusting" he had spat, just but ready to walk out of the house now that his biggest threat lay dead in his own pool of blood. Not without a fight of course, for they had fought tooth and nail, pity they were outnumbered, but the man thought himself merely better that even if he were to have fought one on one with Sinclair, he would have won, because he was just simply better. He exuded arrogance, and pure anger, the air so cold everyone would have thought him incapable of even having his own family.  

Bella couldn't help the sob that left her, more so forced itself out of her, as she had tried so hard not to make a sound in case she was next, however her own ability of sound betrayed her and that caught the sinister man's attention as he turned his head back to see who it was responsible for such pitiful sound, only for his cold ice blue eyes to land on a little girl trembling so bad it was a wonder she was still standing on her tiny feet.

A detail he had forgotten, that the Sinclair's had a child, who now stood eyes a raging red because of tears, facial skin blotchy and body trembling with intense heartbreak. What she had witnessed was no sight for a child of her age even he thought, but quickly dismissed it with what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. After all he wasn't about to kill the child at all, he was merciless, yes, he would have done her a favour by killing  

her, yes, as he thought, he decided against it as a cutesy to the two dead bodies that lay motionless. He had had his fill and so he left.

Bella couldn't help but run over to her dead parents as fast as her feet could carry her, calling out to them as if by some heavenly miracle they would wake, however, even her little toddler brain knew they were on a one-way ticket, gone. She sat between them, not caring about the blood that stained her SpongeBob pyjamas, knees curled to her chest, little arms around them to pull them close and her head laying on her arms, the house walls could only echo her cries as if mourning along with her.

That Friday night, Bella cried rocking herself back and forth, wallowing in heartbreak and regret, regret that maybe if she had done something, even if it was begging the cold nameless man to spare her father's life, perhaps she could have saved him instead of having stood like a deer caught in the headlights, like a coward, and now because she did nothing, her father too was dead. She cried oblivious to the fact that even her pleas wouldn't have stopped fate from taking its course, their deaths were inevitable.

That Friday night, she was stuck between two, hate and remorse adorned by an intense heartache and guilt. She didn't know whether to let herself be consumed by hate, or whether live her life in remorse, heartbreak that seemed never-ending. She could have gone on hating everyone and everything in life, or try to forgive herself yet never forgetting and moving on. In that moment, she had found herself truly torn, a soul split, only to be haunted by the icy blue eyes, an object to become her nightmare and the very fuel behind what she would come to become. 

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