Always Been You

~Martha’s POV~

“I will agree to everything, as long as I get to meet my fiancé.”

The statement has been going over and over in my fucking head. I saw the pain in my son’s eyes. He had suffered so much. When he found out that I knew about the children, I saw hatred in his eyes; however, at this point, he is hopeless, and Dr. Blackwood has the upper hand. The police couldn’t help; Lola couldn’t remember anything. Twice I took the kids to her, and she doesn’t recall ever having children. Seeing my children suffer in such a way is excruciating for me. It breaks my heart to see Lola inflict pain on her children without even realizing it herself. My eyes started to be teary, then bloodshot, and then tears followed.

“Martha, are you okay?” My husband asked, and I couldn’t lie to him-my son’s family was being torn apart by an obsessed boy. That boy has to pay. I dried my eyes with a tissue and stood up.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said as I walked into my bedroom and started packing my clothes in one of my travel bags. For far too long, I have been far too nice. Being nice isn’t one of my hobbies. I am not a nice person that I know very well, but meeting Monroe changed me. He instilled in me the value of kindness, despite the fact that I detest showing kindness to others. However, I did so out of love for my family. I hate it when people mistake me for kindness. I’m not kind; I’m far from kind. I am one bitch that can go mad for a second and the next second you see me laughing, call me a sociopath, yeah that’s the right English word.

I packed my luggage and dragged it out as my husband watched.

“Martha, where are you going?” I spun to face him; he knows me so well, and he also knows that I am up to no good.

“To find my brother.” His pupils became much larger.

“Martha, we talked about this, and we came to the conclusion that you are never to step foot in your family again; you told me you wanted a new start, and I gave you a new start!” He yelled at me. I hate it when people yell instead of talking, and the only person who can yell at me is my son because his rudeness reminds me of my father and brother. Dante did not inherit his father’s traits; rather, he inherited them from my family. Monroe is a gentle and generous man, just the person I needed to bring some light into my gloomy existence. He illuminated my path and showed me the value of generosity and kindness, but when it comes to my family, kindness can take a back seat. I. Can. Kill. For. My. Family.

“Yes, and we agreed we would do anything for family.”

“Not like that. There must be another way,” I replied. His son, Dante, on the other hand, who has all of my family’s genre flowing through his veins, has never been soft, in contrast to his father, who is always far too soft.

“Darling, I’ve watched my family disintegrate in front of my very eyes. I am willing to do anything it takes to get my family back to a peaceful state, and that includes reprimanding my son when necessary. Why do you think I kept the kids away from that brat for all these years?” I went close to him, saying, “He was not worthy of them, and now my family needs me. Candice, June, and Mason have to vanish into thin air for peace to reign.”

“Martha!”

“Anything for family, darling. I promised you that I would leave my past behind, but when someone disturbs my peace, I will fight back. I will give people a taste of their own medicine when they take on more than they can chew. I told you I would fight for what is mine.”

“This is Dante and Lola’s fight.”

“One they cannot handle,” I answered, and I started walking towards the door.

“Your brother will kill them.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Martha!” He yells.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“Would you rather let me do it or my brother do it?” He let out a sigh of defeat. “None of the Monroes will ever get their hands dirty,” I said as I walked out of the house, heading home.

My family and I haven’t been in touch; Martha isn’t my real name. Martha was the name that Monroe thought would be appropriate for his queen, and I have to say that I really like it. More than Francesca, my name is Francesca Guerra, the ice queen. My name is well-known throughout all of Italy. When my name, my father’s name, or even my brother’s name is mentioned, people in Italy bow their heads. No one could melt my heart, but a softhearted man far from my leg did; he wanted the same land my family was eyeing, and I, the ice queen, melted the moment I saw that idiot laughing.

As soon as my plane touched down in Sicily, I was taken by one of my most reliable bodyguards straight to my father’s residence.

I motioned for the worker to take my belongings to my room, and then I went directly to my brother’s office. I stormed in and found him with his balls completely embedded in a blonde.

“Get out!” When the girl saw me, her eyes widened. She was one of the maids. My brother likes to employ blonde maids; he has a thing for blonde girls. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he slept with each of the maids working in this house. Thank the good Lord that he didn’t pull his pants down. While he worked on his pants, he kept his back turned to me the whole time.

“The prodigal daughter returned; I must say, sister, you have such a grand entrance. Who do you want me to kill?” He wondered aloud as he exhaled a cloud of white smoke into the atmosphere.