Here is the sequel most have been waiting for! And I want to thank all my fans! Note that this could be my last story for a while because school is coming up and I won't have much time to write. An I am still looking for a collab partner! But, here is Revenge Isn't So Sweet! No haters! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Vanessa's POV I looked up at the number of the house. Three-oh-nine, I thought. This was it. I was about to meet her again, and finally her daughter. She was the daughter of one of the many substitutes I had. And her name was Caroline Rosetta Mitchells. I turned to my cousin, Emma. "You ready for this?" she asked, looking at me. "As ready as I'll ever be, Ems," I replied, and walked up to the house. I pushed on the doorbell, hearing a sweet ring. I heard shuffling and then the door opened to reveal the girl who was the daughter of Mrs. Mitchells. "Hello! How may I help you?" she smiled at us, blowing black strands of hair out of her face. Her blue eyes glistened with happiness. She was so young, only, maybe, sixteen. I was only twelve years older, making myself twenty-eight. "We are Vanessa and Emma, friends of your mother, Mrs. Mitchells," I smiled back. "Oh, Ness! It's you! I've been wanting to meet you for so long! Come in, come in! My mother has been dying to see you." She pulled us in, leading us to her mother. We walked through the beautiful house, seeing mementos of their past. "Ness?" I heard, pulling myself out of those memories. I turned to see Mrs. Mitchells smiling at me. "Mrs. Mitchells! How have you been?" I smiled at her, walking towards her. She pulled me into a hug, obviously happy to see me. "Great! You look wonderful, dear. And, please, call me Rose or Rosetta," she smiled. "Thank you. I just need a couple of questions answers. Is that alright?" I asked as Emma stood around awkwardly. "Oh, manners. This is my cousin, Emma. She's the daughter of Sophia," I smiled. "Oh, how do you do?" Rose smiled at Emma. "Good. And it's nice to meet you. I have been wanting to see you," Emma smiled. "Anyway," I started. "Rose, I need to know, how did my mother die?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Just talk to me if you want to collab!
YAY I LOVE THIS!!!! I would like to collab, but I'm already doing two other collabs and working on another story, so I probably would be a bad partner… Good luck on finding a good one
Here is an update after so many days! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Emma's POV I watched them speak, not really paying attention, then started roaming the house. They seemed to have so many happy memories. I walked into the living room, smiling at their taste in furniture. I walked over to their mantel, seeing their family portrait. They a had genuine smiles, happy to be with each other. I saw Rose and Caroline easily, both with black hair. I saw a man who must have been the father and a younger man who must have been their son. Beautiful black eyes and light brown hair with natural red highlights. "Need something?" I heard, making me jump. I turned to see the boy from the picture. He seemed to be around sixteen, about my age. I was only eighteen myself, making me only two years older. "No, I'm just-" I stuttered. I shook my head and decided to try again. "Sorry. I stutter when I get scared like that. I meant, I'm just passing time while your mother is talking with my cousin." "Oh, well I'm Michael. And you've met Carol," he smiled. His name hit me like a punch in the face. "I'm Emma Jackson. And my cousin is Vanessa Cantrell." I smiled at him, covering my shock. "Oh, I've heard a lot about Vanessa. After all, her uncle is your uncle." He knew? Didn't totally surprise me, but it still gave me a tad bit of shock. "You've heard about my uncle?" I asked. "Yeah. He's a hero to our family. I wish I could've met him," he smiled. "Yeah, me too." I frowned and walked over to their couch. Expensive, I thought. But it is beautiful. I moved my hand over the sleek leather. "Your mother has good taste," I commented, walking over to the glass coffee table. "Oh, this room was my father's creation. My mother only agreed to it make my father happy. Or at least she says. This room was furnished before Carol and I was born," he replied. "You're younger or older than Carol?" I asked. "Older. By one day," he smiled. "Twins. Nice. I had a twin. He died at birth," I said. "Sorry." "But now I have a silly little brother. He's fun at some points. Others, he's insane." I smiled, remembering my sixteen year old brother. Though the problem was I probably wasn't ever going to see him again. "Sounds nice," he smiled. "Ems, let's go!" I heard as Vanessa entered the room. I nodded and waved goodbye to Michael. "What happened?" I asked as we walked out of their home. "I'll tell you later," she said, a grim and angry voice that I had never heard coming from her mouth. What the hell happened while I was gone? I thought, not asking another question as we got into Vanessa's neon blue Pontiac. She drove off madly, not her normal self. Something bad had happened, and I wasn't wanting to find out, but I knew I needed to. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What was Vanessa told? The truth? Lies?
You asked, you got it! Update! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Caroline's POV I sat in the room with my mother and Vanessa as they spoke, knowing that they didn't mind me in the room. When Vanessa asked the question of how her mother died, my mother froze and grief hit her face. "Oh, Vanessa, do you have to know?" my mother asked, a saddened tone in her voice. "I do. I want to seek out what happened and who caused it to happen," Vanessa said calmly. "Vanessa, when I finish with this story, please, don't hate me or Brandon for what happened. It was something that had happened in due time." "Understood. Now, please, tell me." "This was when you were ten, as you must remember," my mother started. "Yes, I do," Vanessa said, a hard to read expression on her face. "Well, weeks before your mother and uncle's funeral, an exchange was arranged. And around five years before that I was hired by your mother. And before that I was forced by the CIA to kill. I was once an assassin." Vanessa gasped, obviously shocked. I shook my head, feeling the slightest bit sorry for her. "I know. Shocking. But the thing is, at first, I was killing criminals. People who wouldn't be missed by most. And soon, I quit, knowing it had gone out of hand. But the only reason why I was an assassin was because my home in Ireland was broken into by CIA members. They killed my parents and siblings, taking me with them, not even remorse in them," my mother continued. "Soon I had learned English, finished my studies, and learned how to be the perfect assassin. After I worked for the CIA, I laid low for a few months. I didn't want to do much except relax. Soon I got a call from a man. He met me at a warehouse in Bakersfield to discuss something important. He introduced himself as Brandon Mitchells, my husband. And he and I discussed what he and a man or woman wanted me to do. And that was kill again. Except it was kill CIA agents." She took a deep breath and continued on. "I killed with Brandon for five years until I met your uncle. I fell in love with him and that caused me to change sides once again. I worked for the CIA one last time, and that was to stop your mother. She was a criminal like I had once told you. The only way to stop her was to kidnap you and meet her." She shuddered at the thought, but she still continued, her voice becoming lower. "We met her in a warehouse with men armed to kill us. We also had men and we started to fight. I met with your mother in hand to hand combat, ready to stop her. In the end, I stabbed her in the throat. The main reason is because the CIA director Mr. Davies told us it was the only way to stop her. And that's that," my mother finally finished. "You killed her?" Vanessa asked, her voice a whisper. "I had to. It was me or her. And I know you loved us both, but it was important that CIA agents stayed alive. So, she died. And at that time so did your uncle." "How did he die?" "A large and muscular man over powered him and slammed him into a wall. I never got to say any last words. Brandon had pulled me back, away from the tragedy." Vanessa just nodded, her face had sadness and grief all over it. She looked at my mother with remorse and anger. She stood and walked out of the room, not even saying goodbye. "At least she now knows." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~