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2117.

she felt like she was losing hours of her life with all of these meetings she had to attend. being the head of this syndicate was not what she had expected - it was worse. all she had ever wanted to be was some cute girl with unexpected skills when it came to tattooing. she did not want to be some kind of mafia queen. in fact, she would have gladly given this power to someone she trusted so that she could continue on her merry way.

her dad would have never approved, though. he would have wanted everything in her hands.

"you need to stop working at the parlor, unless we're allowed to post security around the perimeter," one of the men at the meeting explained. she could only focus on how tired he looked, how there were permanent circles beneath his cold black eyes.

acantha snorted softly, shaking her head as she replied, "didn't i tell you that you're not allowed to tell me what to do? i'm your boss, am i not? you only make suggestions. you don't give me commands. only i can give commands - do you understand?"

she felt awkward as soon as the words left her mouth. she was not built for this. she had killed somewhere around ten or so of her father's men throughout the past couple of weeks. even with the professional cleaning that had been done in this expensive highrise, she still thought the place reeked of blood and she could still picture the brain matter on the table..

what was worse was how with every death, her hands became less shaky. her morals? a little less loud in her head. it really did get easier every time. she was still reluctant, but if someone challenged her too much, she was going to put them in their place. she wasn't so afraid to do that anymore.

"having security at my job would be a terrible idea.. i doubt the other artists would like that - or the clients. have you even thought of that?"

the man exhaled a heavy sigh.

"you aren't safe, miss."

she smirked. "when have i ever been safe?"