I was born in Feb 20, 1987. So was my two sisters. We lived in a small rented house on the outskirts of London. We were poor, and Mum was on some kind of public welfare that made it possible for us to survive. Mum managed to make ends meet, but I didn’t realize how tough it must have been for her until I grew up.

My earliest memories are from a very dysfunctional family. I always knew the man who lived here on and off was not my real dad. I didn’t like him. He was either drunk, loud or violent, and if anything didn’t go his way, he would explode in rage. And then drink some more…

We were all afraid of him. Terrified in fact. I remember he was nice initially, but that time was long gone. He used to beat Mum and sometimes also me and my sisters. Luckily, he often left the house during the day, and we had some fun and peace until late afternoon when he usually came stumbling back. Drunk and pissed. He was a dark shadow hanging over all of us for years, and we couldn’t get rid of it.

I never knew who my real dad was, but for a long time, I hoped he would come back and save us. But my dream never came true. At least not the way I imagined.

I still remember that horrible night, with sorrow and pain in my heart, when we all split up, and I lost contact with my sisters. I know Mum left Len and Angel with some friends before she took me to Heathrow Airport, and we left London to go to Korea, her homeland.

Unfortunately my mother was killed by a drunk man shortly after arrival so the re-union with my sisters was postponed 19 years.

I was devastated and shocked. A little girl – I was six at that time, left alone in a hostile world, lonely like a rock on the moon.

And I missed my sisters.

After that horrible tragedy, I lived with different members of my mother’s family. Mostly uncles and aunties. I had problems staying too long in the same place, so I spent a lot of time in the streets because I somehow felt I couldn’t afford to love anybody or be too close to others anymore. After all, they were taken away from me when I did.

So, I got shut up inside. A tough little girl, trying to navigate through the wilderness of an almost impossible life, encountering a lot of bumps and barbed wire on the road.

I didn’t trust anyone – well, I didn’t have anyone to trust either, so I learned to live by myself without being attached to anyone. I lived, stole, ate, and shit in the streets. I was rarely home. I had to be on the run, and the streets became my home.

But I became part of the mafia. Double Dragon. And I made a lot of money first on pickpocketing. Later on guns and antiques.

At 18 I returned to London and joined the army. Ended up in Afghanistan. Sole survivor of a helo crash in the mountains and got captured by a Russian renegade warlord, but saved by Snyper and Goldie who accidentally were in Afghanistan to steal weapons left behind by the retreating Russian army. Well… and buy cheap Coke directly from the farmers.

I ended up in Santa Monica where my new friends lived and that’s where I met one of my sisters! Out of the blue!

We set out to find our third sister who was trafficked to Albania and we eradicated most of the Albanian mafia in the process and tracked one of the masterminds behind the operation to London where we killed an auction with trafficked virgins and delivered evidence to the police and caused somewhere around 30.000 paedophiles and traffickers to go to jail.

Apart for the challenges fighting corrupt judges and police forces, we also got quite a few very pleasant surprises along the way!

My life now is a combination of finding traffickers, put them behind bars and write about my adventures.

I may not be the best author in the world but I am very passionate about fighting trafficking and getting my stories out there.