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𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲.

Cole Thompson used to wish for my downfall.

He took every opportunity to break me, to best me. But this man? This was not the Cole I remember from my youth. Not the kind kid that played with me in my backyard, and i not the infuriating boy who had eventually realised that he had only been born with one purpose: to challenge me in every aspect of my life.

This man was self-made, dripping with the proof of how he climbed that ladder of success. And he was beautiful. Too beautiful.

It was really too bad he was still hell bent on breaking me. He thinks he can, now that I’m the lucky girl without her luck, now that I'm at the bottom while he looks on from above.

What he doesn’t know is that, luck or no, I'll break him first.

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐞.

It was clear and clean before, what I’d wanted from Lucky Peters. I’d wanted her to suffer. I wanted her to see me standing at the top of the world she had insisted on taking from me time and time again, and I wanted her to beg me for mercy. I wanted to hold every single part of her in my hands. Her happiness, her freedoms, her career, her life. I wanted her to look at me and

know what it was like to be powerless.

That was all I had wanted. But that was then.

This is now.