The first few days were the hardest.
Daisy had woken up to the same cold silence that filled the house every night since she arrived on the island. There was no turning back now. The sun had barely begun to rise over the horizon, casting long shadows over the landscape as Daisy stood by the window of her father's old room, her fingers gripping the cold steel of the knife from his desk.
She couldn't sleep.
Was this what it felt like to start over? To leave everything behind?
Her mind churned with questions, none of which had clear answers. Her mother's words echoed in her mind: "Don't do this, Daisy. You don't understand what you're getting into." She could still feel the ache in her chest when her mother had looked at her, pleading. But Daisy had made her choice. The woman who had raised her in the shadows had told her to leave, to walk away from the life that had consumed their family. But Lucy didn't understand. She couldn't.
Daisy had nothing left to return to. Her real father was dead. The life she had known with Austin, a lie. And her baby brother? She had no idea how to protect him. The only way she could ensure they would never be harmed again was to become someone no one could touch.
The sound of footsteps on the creaky wooden floor broke her thoughts.
"Are you ready?" The voice was cold, detached—an accent thick with authority. It was Thomas, her father's right-hand man. He had come here to teach her what he knew—how to survive in a world of shadows, blood, and violence.
Daisy turned slowly, meeting his eyes. He was an imposing figure, tall and hard-faced, with years of experience etched into every line on his face. He had watched her father build his empire, had stood by his side until the bitter end. He had once been her father's most trusted ally, and now he was here to train her.
She nodded, silently. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she was ready.
"Good," Thomas said, his voice softening for a brief moment. "Your father had many enemies, but he also had allies. You need to understand this world, and you need to be ruthless."
Daisy swallowed hard. "I'm ready."
Without another word, Thomas gestured for her to follow him. They left the room and descended down the narrow stone stairs that led to a secretive training room below the house. The air was thick with the smell of aged wood and leather, the walls lined with weapons, old books, and maps. It was a place built for someone who understood that in their world, loyalty was bought in blood.
Thomas turned to her and handed her a heavy leather vest, the kind worn by those who trained to kill. "Put this on," he ordered. "We start with basics. You won't last a day if you can't protect yourself."
She took the vest, feeling the weight of it as it settled around her shoulders. It felt strange—foreign, yet necessary. This is what I have to become—this thought was becoming more real with every passing second.
"Your father was a strategist, Daisy. He built an empire, not just with muscle, but with his mind," Thomas continued, walking over to a table cluttered with knives, guns, and other weaponry. "He never killed without reason. He made sure everything was planned, every move calculated."
Daisy felt a shiver run down her spine. She had never been part of this world before. But now, it was the only one that mattered. She needed to learn, to fight, to grow into something even her father had never wanted for her—a killer.
As Thomas showed her the different weapons, Daisy realized how little she truly knew about the life her father had led. Her childhood had been sheltered, filled with lies to protect her from this very world. Now, it was her reality.
The next few hours passed in a blur—learning how to wield a knife, how to move silently, how to use her environment as her ally. The sweat on her brow was cold, the training brutal. But with every drop of sweat, every bruise, she felt something inside her begin to harden.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, her body was sore and her mind racing. But she wasn't done yet.
"Daisy," Thomas said quietly as they paused for a break. "Your father's world isn't easy. You'll never be the same after you take this step. But you must never forget one thing—revenge. You owe him that."
She nodded. He was right. She owed her father this, and she wouldn't stop until she made those who killed him pay.