After I was done training for the day and had my breakfast, it was around 3pm and my father called for a whole mafia meeting, so I decided to just take a quick bath and go downstairs to find a snack to eat.

I quickly threw on a simple cream and black plaid baggy shirt and paired it with my black leather trousers and my some boots. As for my accessories, I put on my gold necklaces, black sunglasses and black Prada shoulder hand-bag.

After I finished changing, I quickly put on some light makeup as I didn't want to be late for my father's announcement. He's quite strict about punctuality.

When I finished applying my makeup, I swiftly made my way downstairs.

Upon my arrival, all the men that were sitting at the meeting table stood up and bowed their heads as a form of respect for their future leader.

Making my way to the chair opposite my father's, I told the men they could sit down as we waited for the arrival of my father.

For a man who's persistent on being on time, he loves to put on a show and arrive late. Ugh. Men.

Suddenly, the door to the meeting room was pushed open and revealed my amazing father - note the sarcasm.

Not only is he malicious towards other people - guilty or not - but he's abusive towards me, his own daughter. Both mentally and physically. This has been a reoccurring predicament for the last four years - ever since the night of my mothers death.

Ever since then, my father was no longer the happy family man that he was behind closed doors, instead, he became a tyrannical piece of shit, who beats me into believing that I was the cause of my mothers death.

He'd spend countless nights convincing me that I am nothing but a pathetic, useless, hideous waste of space who deserves nothing good in life.

Have I let his words get to me and spiral into a constant insecure feeling of self-hatred and self-consciousness? Yes.

Have I been retaliating by becoming the world renowned female assassin '' [the mother of death] in hopes of proving my worth to him? Yes. Yes I have.

However. Has it been working? No.

Long story short, the Couillon [dickhead] hates me.

Anywho, moral of the story, I absolutely despise him and I can't wait for the moment he dies so I can become the rightful leader of the French Mafia.

I was snapped out of my spiralling thoughts by the sound of a paper being placed onto the table in front of me. I look up and around to see the same bewilderment written across the name of the men.

With confusion clear on my face, I look to my father who is sporting a wicked grin on his face which sends creepy shivers down my spine.

"Père, qu'est-ce que c'est [Father, what is this]?" I ask, however, I don't need his reply to understand what this is.

Upon further inspection, I realise that this isn't just some piece of paper. It's an invitation to a ball.

The moment I am faced with this realisation, my head snaps up and I make eye contact with my ruthless father.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est que cette merde [what the hell is this shit]?!" I bellowed as I shot up from my seat.

"Installe-toi salope, et regarde ton ton quand tu me parles [settle down you bitch, and watch your tone when you're talking to me]!" My father barks across the room.

The room went silent, allowing my father to continue speaking.

"As I was about to say - before I was rudely interrupted," my father sneered at me before continuing.

"Everyone get themselves ready for the night of their lives. We're holding a ball tonight for all the mafia's across the world. I trust that everyone can be ready and alert by tonight." My father commanded.

With that, all the men stood up and bowed their heads in understanding and collectively replied with a "Oui patron [yes boss]." And made their way out of the meeting room.

As I sat there, shell-shocked and faced with the harrowing memories of the night of my mothers death, my eyes began tearing up.

I heard my father chuckling at me and calling me a "pute pathétique [pathetic whore]!"

"Qu'est-ce que tu fous [what the fuck are you doing]?! I know you're up to something père! Whatever you're doing is pointless. I won't be attending." I declare.

"LIKE HELL YOU WON'T BE, YOU LITTLE BITCH! Ayez du respect pour votre propre père [have some respect for your own father]. Besides, J'ai une surprise pour toi et je sais que tu vas adorer [I have a surprise for you and I know you'll love it]." My father replied with a mischievous look on his face. He walks up to me and slaps me right across the face, I'm guessing is because of my talking back to him.

God, what could this devil be up to?