1 Prologue

She sat upon her chair with her leg on the table and smiled mischievously, the bastard who dared to steal from her knelt down in front of her, his face bloodied from the recent beating. She picked up the silver revolver from the table, her favourite, and she examined it very carefully. She was only 10 when she became a murderer, way too young. Now 15 years later, she controlled the gangs and mobs in all of Africa. The man in front of her kept his mouth sealed and his eyes blank, he knew the rules, he knew the punishment, so he didn’t bother to beg knowing it would make his situation worse…way worse.

She threw the gun up and caught it skilfully, laughing coldly and instilling more fear into her next prey. She wasn’t always like this, she could remember that one day, that one day that changed her life…

She could hear her father’s voice from her room and he was drunk and angry, again. Unfortunately, her mother was always at the receiving end of his anger. Normally, she would stay in her room and cry in pain and sadness but she just turned 10 the day before and deemed herself old enough to stop her father. She walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen where the voices came from. She opened the kitchen door quietly, it was the same plot, the same setting, her mother lying on the ground crying and her father abusing her mother, but the plot twist, the thing that made her heart tighten in fear was the knife tightly gripped in her father’s hand.

She didn’t think, she was on defence mode, she was in front of her father and tried to push him back with her small hands. Her father’s bloody red eyes landed on her and the stench of alcohol entered her nostrils. Maybe there was once a time when Balogun Ogunseye was handsome with dark skin, dark brown eyes and a tall figure but now he was the devil’s incarnate

“you…” he spat out angrily “ you are the reason for all of this, I was rich, I had a wonderful job, a beautiful wife but you had to come and ruin my life” he raised the knife high as if to stab her “ and now I’ll ruin you” but suddenly she was pushed to the wall and watched horrified as he stabbed her mother instead.

She quickly ran to her mother’s side and started to cry “it’ll…be…okay” she sobbed while applying pressure on the wound but it was useless as her hands got soaked in her mother’s blood,

“Rose” her mother whispered “you are a strong girl, you have a heart of gold, never be weak, don’t allow other’s choices to dictate your life. Remain strong and brave, you have a long journey ahead of you and you need all the strength you can get. Never give up, you are a rose, enticing with its petals and scent but dangerous with its thorns but most of all…never forget that I love you” Rose cried harder as she watched the life leave her mother’s eyes.

She didn’t know how long she knelt there crying but when she looked up and saw her father’s dazed look, hot white anger ran through her veins. She carefully removed the knife from her mother’s stomach and walked towards her father hiding the knife at her back, her expression was deadly and cold, her eyes blank of emotion. Her father looked at her and his eyes held horror and fear and she enjoyed it, she enjoyed the fear in his eyes

“Rose…I…” he started but never got to finish before she struck the knife at his heart and he fell down with full force. She climbed on top of him and continued stabbing him, releasing all her pent up anger and frustration on him until he died and there were no more tears left to shed.

Dark red blood rolled over his mouth and she stood up and looked at her hands, her hands covered in the blood of her parents, the hands of a murderer. She quickly ran to her mother’s side and removed the necklace that she always wore, a silver crescent dangled from it and she quickly put it on. She ran upstairs to her room and carrieda school bag and put a little amount of comfortable clothes in it with a single pair of sneakers since she couldn’t run with her blood stained feet. She carried a single picture of her and her mother at the park and stuffed it inside, she hurried back to the kitchen and carried some fruits and bread that may last her for a few days. She ran to the back door and opened it, but she looked back once at the dead figure of her parents and the bloodshed and at her hands which were still stained with the blood, she ran to the kitchen sink and quickly washed her hands furiously.

She removed the silver crescent from her neck and kissed it, she would fight and she would fight for her mother and for herself and with that last thought, she ran, she ran into the darkness, she ran for her freedom.

Now here she was, strong and brave, having her own mafia empire, her mother’s necklace still on her neck and a bastard right in front of her. It was time to end his pain, she picked up the gun and aimed at his head 3…2…1 and a shot was heard, his dead body fell on the ground, his blood pouring on the floor and more of his blood staining the map of Africa pinned on the wall in front of her and she smiled, she smiled for her pain, she smiled for her unhappiness, she smiled for the childhood she lost and most of all she smiled for the death of her mother, the true Queen.

In her life, pain was normal, happiness didn’t exist, that was how she wanted it and that was what she got because she got whatever she wanted, she was the Queen of Africa.