Break the Chain

I'm gonna teach you a lesson

Okay, just an update for you guys! I'm still on vacation, so I'm blessing you with this chapter early! I'm very proud of this chapter and the ones coming up since it has actual plot in it! Anyways, you guys enjoy, let me know what you think, and just an FYI, use the tag #breakthechainfanfic on tik tok so I can see your guys' content!!

Love you!
-Dal.
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"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Jen asked while she was folding a shirt. You were trying to help her pack a suitcase for a weekend trip.

"I already told you. I'm not going." You wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn't want to get into an argument before she left. You picked another shirt that was lying on her bed and folded it, setting it in the suitcase in front of you. "Besides... I technically didn't get an invite."

Once again, your heart hurt a little more, as you thought about it. Flip and Ron were heading out of state for some forensics convention. Ron invited Jen, since they decided to become exclusive last week. Ron mentioned to her that the convention would last through the weekend, but after 3 pm they could have the rest of the day together.

Flip didn't mention said convention to you... at all. Didn't help that you were avoiding him over the last week as a result of it.

You sighed out loud. You really didn't mean to. You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself now. He didn't owe you an invite. He didn't owe you shit, in fact. You just got your hopes up, that's all.

"I'm sorry..." you heard Jen whisper as she folded another shirt. "I'm sure Ron will be busy most of the time, anyways."

Now you really did roll your eyes. Jen usually wasn't the type to say bullshit to make you feel any better. She got to the point, no matter how much it hurt.

You sighed again. "It's fine." you looked over to her. "Just have fun for the both of us?" you gave her a reassuring smile. She embraced you in a hug and nodded before you two went back to your task.

Your mind wandered to the week before.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked over to the alarm clock on Flip's bedside table. It read 2:23 PM. You then turned your head. You couldn't see Flip's face, but you could definitely see his head of hair covering it. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, as he was still asleep. You pressed your fingers onto your eyes, trying to rub the sleepiness off. When you gathered enough energy, you sat up in bed. You sat there for a moment before a thought entered your mind.

You slowly turned your head back towards his direction again, but you weren't looking at him this time. No. You looked at his bedside table. The case file was still there. You slowly stood up from bed and tip-toed over around to his side. When you picked it up you noticed how thick the file was. No wonder he was always complaining about the case. You took one last glance over to Flip, who was still sound asleep, and you tip-toed back over to your side of the bed.

You quietly sat back down on the bed, opening the file in front of you. You immediately noticed a picture of a man, which caused a wrinkle to form in between your eyebrows. You thought he looked familiar...

You shook your head and moved on. You moved the picture aside and started reading.

"Adrik Petroff AKA Abigor Kronos of Dimitri and Elena Petroff. Date of birth 10/31/1983. Born in Cheremkhovo, Russia. It is reported that A. Petroff was known for dealing drugs in the streets of Russia, before coming to the United States. When coming to the U.S. Petroff got involved selling firearms to various gangs around major cities. It was also known Petroff would spread false rumors about the gangs, causing them to become rivals. Death and crime rates skyrocketed as a result. This is where his alias, Abigor (meaning: Demon of War) Kronos, named after his grandfather that died from cancer in 1991, originated. When tracking Petroff to West Baltimore, Maryland in 2013, he fled back to Russia to escape charges. Word of Petroff came back in 2015 when he was seen in Miami, Florida. Major crimes started noticing a trend of firearms being used in crimes with 'X's' scratched in the sides. This was later known to be associated with Petroff. Miami was a hot spot of an increase of death rates. Reports came in to find 3-5 dead bodies every week in an abandoned building with the same 'X's' carved into their chest, tying back to Petroff."