Shoot and run.

This has been my lifestyle from the moment I was born. Times without number, I have had to pull the trigger in life-threatening situations before racing for the nearest exit.

And now, I have to do it again.

I sigh as I slam the head of the last man standing into the wall beside me, before pointing my gun at the wrinkled man in a wheelchair.

"I'm going to have pity on you," I say with emotionlessly. "Hand me the briefcase, old man, and run. Else, I'll shoot."

The man laughs...or rather tries to laugh. It's more of a wince and a few coughs because of the multiple blows given to him- obviously by me.

"Run, me? I don't know what gave you the impression that I could run. But now," he produces a gun, "You run, or I shoot."

I frown when I notice his poor handling of the gun, knowing he can't do anything with the weapon, roll my eyes, then aim and fire straight into his chest.

Bull's eye.

Alarms ring shrilly, and I hear footsteps, so I pick up the briefcase the now dead man was hiding behind him and run.

As soon as I sight the cyan-colored car waiting for me a few meters away from the building, I heave a sigh of relief and continue running till I arrive at the passenger door. "Drive," I say drily.

As the driver starts the engine, I stare at the mirror and apply lipstick.

I've decided. I'm quitting.

And there is nothing that's going to change my mind.

With this thought I sit back and turn my head towards the window, watching building after building pass through my field of vision until the car in stops of a building whose entire structure I've memorized in my heart.

Roman, my adopted brother and boss smiles when he sees me in his office. "You're here early."

"I'm always early," I reply, handing the package over to his assistant who takes it to the examination table while Roman smirks at me.

"Ever the cocky girl."

"You wouldn't like me if I wasn't." My retort is sharp but playful, and my dear adopted brother chuckles once again before turning to his assistant when his attention is called upon.

"It's complete, sir."

With a smile, Roman turns back to me. "Wonderful. You should get the money in your account some time from now."

Instead of nodding stiffly and turning to leave like I normally do, I sit in a nearby chair. "We need to talk." My eyes catch the curious eyes of his assistants. "In private."

He nods, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Excuse us," he says to the assistants, who nod and scurry away, after which he folds his arms and leans on a pillar.

"Alright, what is it?"

"I want to resign," At his shocked face, I add quickly, "And you cannot stop me."

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, then mutters in a voice so low I have to strain to hear. "You're joking."

With a sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"I'm not, Roman. We've known each other for a long time. I would never joke about such a thing. You should know that."

"Why would you want to resign?" he says with a hint of steel in his voice as his eyes flutter open, rage shining in them.

I seem to have forgotten how angry he could get.

"I just want out," I reply calmly. "I'm tired of living this way. Killing people, taking cases of chemical abominations, having to see my best friends go down...you know how I felt when Jess and Oprah died."

Those are the only two people I remember crying for when they died. I've never known my parents.

He twirls his pen as he walks around my seat, apparently trying to cage me in an emotional turmoil.

"Not happening." His voice is laced with controlled rage. "Look, I understood and still understand your pain but Ivory, you can't just leave. It isn't done anywhere."

That does it.

I stand in frustration. "Mr. Deville," I grit out. "You do not own my life. I don't want this life anymore; I want out."

He stops twirling his pen and looks at me in a way that would shed a lion's mane off immediately.

"You don't mean that. If you do mean it, you mean death. Ford, Scarlett, Georgie and I are not going to let you go just like that and you know it."

I purse my lips at the mention of the other Deville children; Roman's siblings and my adopted siblings. Every one of the Devilles are devious and manipulative, with individual strengths when it comes to the family business.

"I know," I reply after a moment of silence.

"But we both know that when I say something, I mean it. I know all of you too well, considering the relationship we had before I joined this company. I was family, and I still am. Besides, you of all people should know that I am not scared of anything."

I stand up, knowing fully well that if I don't leave this place I'm in serious trouble. I've seen him wring someone's neck within seconds.

"We own you."

I freeze when I hear him utter those words; as though I am an object they can make use of until they no longer wish it.

"No," I reply with gritted teeth, standing stock still even though every fibre of my being wishes to wring his neck. "Your father made it clear that when I wanted to leave, I could leave. And I'm doing just that."

So saying, I turn on my heels and leave the room, then make my way to my office.

Derrick Pennington, my colleague and partner-in-crime smiles when I slump into my chair, obviously unaware of the altercation I experienced just a few minutes earlier.

"And how was it?"

"Not unusual," I reply and open a novel.

Apart from dancing in the bathroom, reading novels is one of the few things that keep me calm.

Derrick scoffs when he hears my response. "You say it like all you do is have a drink of water."

"How odd. That's exactly what I do," I answer drily, sarcasm dripping from my statement and causing him to playfully narrow his eyes.

"If not for the love I have for you, Ivory, I'd have strangled you to death years ago."

"I'd like to see you try," I chuckle and return to reading, before standing and walking over to the drink cabinet in the office.

"Wait, Ivory. Hold on for a moment. Don't...Ivory."

Derrick sighs and rubs his forehead as I open the cabinet, pause, before widening my eyes as I lay them on the objects in the cabinet.

I gape at the guns.

"Where the heck are the drinks?"

In response, he raises a brow. "I was expecting a question as regards the guns in there and not the drinks."

"I hold guns basically every second of my life, Pennington. I'm not going to be shaking in my boots because of some ammo." I shut the cabinet and turn to him. "What's going on? I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"Someone's infiltrated the agency," he says quietly.

"Turns out there are some people more than determined to destroy everything. Scarlett Deville placed the order, and now there are guns hidden everywhere."

He pulls out a Coke from the cupboard beside his desk. "Now we all have to keep our drinks elsewhere."

"How can someone infiltrate the agency? That's like, highly impossible," I say, collecting the Coke he hands over to me.

"That's what we all thought," Derrick says, then his eyes flutter up to mine. "You weren't informed?"

"Nah. I don't disturb myself with all this."

"Of course." His expression does not belie the sarcasm his voice holds. I ignore it.

"I won't remain here for long anyway," I comment instead, lounging in my chair.

"What do you mean; you're not going to be here again?" Derrick's expression holds serious confusion as he stares at me.

I debate whether to tell him the truth or not, then call BS.

"I'm resigning. Or, let's just call it quitting."

For a moment there's silence, then…

"You're kidding me, aren't you?" he says, laughing hard.

I frown.

"I laugh when I'm not serious," i reply with a deadpan expression. That expression causes him to pause in the middle of his laughter and turn to my very serious face. Suddenly, his face goes from amused to worried.

"Don't say that again, Ivory. That's a dangerous claim."

"I really am quitting though."

He blinks once at me, then groans.

"I don't know why you're taking such a big risk. You know you cannot leave the company without getting eliminated, right? They don't want their secret out in the open."

I scoff. "They are my adopted family, Pennington. If anyone knows them very well, it'd be me. Besides, I only decided to work here because of their father, and I can decide to leave whenever I want."

"Right," he replies drily and presses a button on his desk. A cupboard slides out beside it. "But you know they'll kill you the moment you leave this building."

"They'd have to find me first," I reply, knowing that I mean it.

"They know everything about you Ivory. Don't do this," he warns as he pulls out a Styrofoam cup, his voice sounding very worried.

It irks me to hear him sound that way, so I resort to saying things that'd make him feel at ease once again.

"So you're going to miss me," I playfully say, and as if he's a switch, he immediately goes from worried to annoyed.

"Stop trying to be comic, Ivory. I'm being serious here."

I sigh. "I know you are. But, Derrick, I've decided. Nothing's changing my mind."

"Not even the thought of death?" The expression on his gaze is incredulous.

"I've stared at death a lot of times. I've always fought. Ever since I was born, Derrick. I'm not afraid of it."

He stares at me for a while before rolling his eyes.

"Suit yourself, Ivory." He empties the content of a Coke he snatched from his drawer.

I simply chuckle as I see his childish behaviour, and soon we hear the speaker cackle to life.

"Ivory, make your way to the board room." Georgia Deville's voice sounds like she has a cocked gun by her side, ready to shoot at someone. That someone seems like me.

Derrick looks at me from the rim of his cup. "I don't know what you did, but you are dead meat."

I pull myself from my seat and grumble as I walk out. What they want to say had better be reasonable.

The door to the head office opens automatically as I approach it. I close my eyes, huff, and enter.

A few minutes after, I regret coming to the office.

"Yes, I'm resigning. Is there anything wrong with that?" I say blankly, staring at Scarlett Deville with a bored expression on my face.

The five people who have been in this company since its inception: Georgia, Scarlett, Ford, Roman [all Devilles] and I sit around the huge table. Georgia Deville slams the table, frustration showing all over her face.

"Yes there is. In fact, everything's wrong with that. You've been here for ten years, Ivory. Ten years!"

"Make that twelve if you include the training our father gave her," Roman adds, his brows furrowed and arms folded over his chest.

"Make that fourteen if you include her living with us when Grandfather was still alive," Scarlett Deville snaps.

I frown. "You make it seem like I have no choice whatsoever."

"Because you don't and you know it," Georgie replies.

I've never liked her, but her attitude makes my aversion to her worse.

"Your father made it clear that..."

"Enough of our father!" Scarlett yells. "It's our time now, and whatever we say goes. We don't want you to leave, and that's final."

I narrow my eyes when she says that, but instead of yelling back at her, I rub my forehead and sigh. "You sound like a child throwing a tantrum, Lettie. Give it a rest, will you?"

Her cheeks turn red as she rises from her seat, her eyes blazing. "You little-"

"Calm down, sister," Georgia admonishes, stopping her before she can embark on a killing spree.

Roman rolls his eyes at his sister before turning to me. "Ivory, we're dealing with a huge case on our hands. You leaving just makes matters worse." He twirls the pen in his hand multiple times. "And you know you're stuck to this company until you die." The pen-twirling stops abruptly. "Unless, of course, you want to leave this world early."

"You know that's impossible. I'm way smarter than that."

I'm tempted to say, 'I'm quite sure I'm way smarter than the four of you combined.'

"We can kill you right now," Scarlett says. "With one shot, you'd be gone. Don't be stupid, Ivory."

I stand. "It's clear from this conversation that I shouldn't have come here. I've remained with you, not like an adopted sister, but like a co-worker, and you take it for granted."

My eyes scan the room and harden. "I'm ready to leave, fellas, and you know it. There's nothing you can do about it."

With that statement I make for the door, the sound of my heels echoing throughout the room as they come in contact with the floor. It's almost as though I'm taunting them with the sound.

I smile as soon as I'm a foot away from the door. It's all over. I'm done with all of this. It's going to finally end-

"We'll allow you quit, on one condition."

I turn, slowly, my brow raised at Ford, who has just spoken. For one thing, he was been quiet throughout the interaction. For another, he's the worst out of all the Devilles.

This puts me on edge, but I steel my features as I face him.

"What's your condition?"

"Yes Ford," Georgia says angrily, obviously irritated. "What's your condition?"

Ford looks at me. "You'll have to undergo one more task, which I will give to you. If you complete it, you win. We'll let you go. And we won't trail you after you do. You fail, and you're stuck here."

Knowing Ford, it's not going to be an easy task.

I purse my lips as I stare at him.

"Do we have a deal?" he asks.

Just then, Scarlett tsks. "Brother, you should have sought our opinion before you planned that. How could you just-"

I interrupt Scarlett's speech.

"Deal."