princess chaos

Sadie had no plans on going out tonight. It was a Thursday night in December. Not like much would be going on, but this was fucking New York. Look hard enough, and you’d find some sort of party, event, or disaster happening somewhere.

It was 7:30 p.m. when she got the text.

She’d already changed from her work clothes into a silk matching green pajama set and curled up in her recliner beside the large window of her condo with a book resting lazily in her lap. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace while slow flakes of snow drifted from the midnight blue sky outside, its stars nearly drowned beneath the disgusting white glow of the city lights.

Sadie raised an eyebrow as her phone chimed, the bright screen lighting up against the dim apartment.

Onyx.

Her pale fingers wrapped around the phone, curiosity immediately stirring in her chest as she opened the message.

Onyx had run through a muddy rain puddle with his black Mustang a few weeks ago, splashing filthy water all over her while she waited for a taxi outside her shop. He’d come back the next day looking far too amused with himself while offering to pay for her coat.

That small interaction somehow turned into exchanged numbers.

Then into weeks of nonstop texting.

A few calls.

And even a couple dates.

Now here she was, staring at a text that read:

I’ll be over at 9 sharp. Get ready, little fox.

Nothing else.

Sadie blinked at the screen before scoffing softly under her breath.

Sounds a little demanding if you ask me.

Onyx’s response came within minutes.

Absolutely. So hurry up, little fox.

The response made Sadie’s stomach twist in a way she absolutely hated.

Or loved.

Maybe both.

Warmth crept into her cheeks as her heartbeat fluttered unevenly against her ribs.

Fine. But if I’m murdered tonight, all signs will point to you if the cops go through my phone.

It was a smartass response, but a response nonetheless.

Sadie tossed her phone onto the couch cushions before standing, removing the faux fur blanket from across her legs. She moved quickly after that, showering before falling into the familiar rhythm of getting ready.

Hair.

Makeup.

Jewelry.

Routine.

She brushed blue-toned silver eyeshadow across her lids before blending soft smoky black into the corners, finishing it with sharp winged liner and black in her waterline. Rose-pink lipstick followed after. Her ginger-orange hair with pale blonde highlights fell around her shoulders in messy waves once she loosened the curls with her fingers.

She kept the outfit simple since she had no idea where Onyx planned on taking her.

A black off-the-shoulder long sleeve shirt hugged her figure, the neckline lined with lace that traced along her collarbones. Dark blue flare jeans sat snug against her hips, paired with black pointed-toe pumps and a thick leather belt around her waist.

Last came the coat.

A large white faux fur jacket draped over her shoulders, the bottom nearly brushing the floor behind her.

Right as Sadie checked the time, her phone rang.

Onyx’s name flashed across the screen.

She answered quickly, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear while grabbing her purse from the counter.

“I’m outside, princess,” Onyx said smoothly, his rough voice curling low through the speaker.

That voice still did something stupid to her stomach.

“I’m on my way,” Sadie replied, unable to stop the small grin tugging at her lips as she locked the condo door behind her.

“Better hurry before I come get you myself.”

His voice sounded rougher than usual, smoke dragging through every word. No doubt he’d already gone through half a cigarette while waiting.

“Something tells me that threat isn’t as playful as you’re making it out to be.” Sadie teased as she headed down the stairs.

Onyx chuckled lowly.

“Someone’s got good instincts.”

The sound settled warm and heavy in her chest.

“If I did, I probably wouldn’t be getting into a car with someone I barely know at nine p.m.,” Sadie shot back, flicking her hair behind her shoulder as she stepped outside into the cold.

The black Mustang waited at the curb beneath the glowing streetlights, headlights cutting through the falling snow.

All Sadie could hear was Onyx’s dark chuckle before the line disconnected.

She lowered the phone slowly, staring toward the car while snowflakes melted against the sleeves of her coat.

“What the hell are you doing, Sadie?” she muttered to herself.

But despite the warning in her own voice, she still took a step forward.

Then another.

Then another.

Each one inching her closer to a night she may never forget.

AHHHHH. This is the second non-fanfiction work that I'm posting here. I hope it goes over well. LMK what you think in the comments. Don't be afraid to let your freak flags fly! Princess chaos out! <3

Chapter One:

The Blaze

The streets of Chicago were bright and slick with yesterday’s rain. Heavy clouds hung low over the city, its tallest buildings piercing through the blanket of gray above. White and yellow streetlights polluted the midnight sky, their glow reflecting off wet pavement and pooling in the puddles scattered across the roads.

Cars zipped past one another, tires hissing against damp asphalt before squealing around sharp corners like the drivers had extra lives to spare. Music blasted through open windows, bass rattling against brick buildings and vibrating through the sidewalks beneath careless footsteps.

The city was loud.

Drunken laughter echoed from somewhere down the block. The scent of marijuana drifted through the air as teenagers passed by in clusters, the smoke mixing with the fruity sweetness of somebody’s strawberry kiwi vape. Homeless figures curled themselves into the dark corners of alleyways while rats skittered across sewer drains beneath flickering LED apartment lights overhead. Somewhere nearby, a couple screamed at one another in the street.

All the while, Blythe Monroe sat in growing frustration inside her black Charger.

Her breath lightly fogged the tinted windows as a burner phone stayed pressed to her ear. Long, slender fingers decorated in silver rings tapped impatiently against the neon green back of the device, short burgundy nails clicking softly against the plastic. Her icy blue eyes stared back at her through the reflection of the visor mirror, framed by loose wine-red waves that softened her features in sharp contrast to the mood written across her face.

She looked seconds away from being truly pissed off.

“So you’re telling me you missed the drop?” Blythe asked lowly through the speakers, her voice calm in the way storms over oceans looked calm before they swallowed ships whole. Her fingers slowly curled around the top of the phone.

“Yes boss, but...” a weary male voice crackled back through the line.

“But what, Silician?” Blythe snapped, her tone low and sharp enough to cut him off immediately.

“B-but I called Red and moved the drop to three A.M tonight,” Silician explained quickly, anxiety bleeding into every word despite his attempt to hide it.

Blythe sighed heavily, dragging a hand through her loose waves before pushing the strands back and holding them briefly at the base of her neck. She shut her eyes for a second, inhaling deeply through her nose as she tried to smooth out the irritation clawing beneath her skin. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer. Controlled.

“Send Little Rock to the new spot with Spookie, Arch, and Modelo. Have them wait there and collect. As for you, go see Dimitri. He’ll handle you.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The line crackled with static before going dead.

Blythe didn’t care enough to listen to any more excuses. Silician would do what he was told. He knew better than not to.

With a sharp motion, she snapped the flip phone shut and slid it into a hidden compartment built beneath the floorboards of her car. She checked herself in the visor mirror again, fingers combing through her hair before carefully fixing the dark burgundy lipstick lining her mouth. Black eyeliner sharpened her icy stare while the shine of gloss caught faint neon reflections from outside.

Perfect.

She shoved the visor back into place and stepped out of the Charger, pointed black heels clicking sharply against the pavement.

Cool April air immediately wrapped around her, the breeze tugging strands of loose wine-colored hair across pale cheeks. The distant hum of Chicago nightlife filled the background around her. Engines revving. Sirens wailing somewhere far off. Bass booming through nightclub walls.

“Let’s get this over with,” Blythe muttered under her breath while straightening the sleeves of her blazer.

She’d been in a horrible mood all day.

Partially because of work. Mostly because of Mercy.

Or rather, because Mercy refused to understand the arrangement for what it actually was.

Blythe wasn’t built for relationships. Hell, she barely tolerated the idea of commitment at all. She liked sex. She liked variety. Control. Loyalty. Whether it was slow, rough, soft, filthy, romantic, or detached never really mattered to her. But emotional attachment? Expectations? Domestic little fantasies about forever?

No.

After six months of sleeping together, Mercy had started breaking rules Blythe made crystal clear from the beginning. Clinginess. Jealousy. Constant questions. Pushing for labels neither of them agreed to.

And this morning, after another dramatic goodbye turned argument, Blythe ended things.

It hadn’t gone over well.

Mercy screamed. Cried. Begged. Pleaded. At one point she’d even stood in front of Blythe’s apartment door trying to physically stop her from leaving. None of it surprised Blythe. Women usually reacted like this when she cut them loose. Something about her always seemed to drag people down into obsession eventually.

Not that Blythe complained.

Watching beautiful women cry over her in desperate little spirals of heartbreak fed some darker, uglier part of her ego. Seeing them reduced to shaking hands and smeared mascara strokes while begging her to stay scratched at something twisted beneath her ribs.

Still, there was a difference between heartbreak and inconvenience.

Mercy had crossed that line quickly.

Things got physical after the threats started.

Blythe had shoved Mercy against the wall with one hand wrapped around her throat while the other pressed a gun beneath her jaw. Mercy’s wide brown eyes flooded instantly with tears as panic overtook her expression, flushed skin damp with sweat while Blythe calmly returned every threat thrown her way.

Mercy folded almost immediately.

Nodding frantically. Apologizing. Promising she understood.

And Blythe believed her.

Mostly.

She hadn’t pulled the trigger.

Even now, Blythe knew she probably should have. Mercy knew too much about the Monroe family and their business dealings. Not enough to destroy them completely, but enough to become a serious problem if she opened her mouth to the wrong people.

But Blythe hesitated.

Because despite everything, the terrified look on Mercy’s face had stirred something unfamiliar in her chest. Not guilt exactly.

Just enough humanity to stay her hand.

Unfortunately, mercy had consequences.

Now the Monroe family could potentially be dealing with a loose end Blythe should’ve cleaned up hours ago.

Which only made her mood worse.

The entire day had felt cursed after that.

Bullshit meetings. Traffic. Endless phone calls. Two lost packs of cigarettes. A shattered shot glass she’d dropped in irritation earlier that afternoon. And now one of her newest runners had nearly screwed up a major drop.

So yeah.

Here's what Blythe looks like, btw: just for funsies:

Blythe Monroe was already in a dangerous mood by the time she walked toward The Blaze.

LMK what you think of the first chapter in the comments. This is the first non-fanfiction work that I've posted on here. anyways princess chaos out <3