Ocean View, 1991
When it rained in Vice City, it poured. It was one of those nights where everyone was inside, you had a few hookers here and there doing their business. The homeless too if they were lucky to have a box to live in. Poor bastards, couldn't even afford a pot to piss in. The only thing that never went away were the neon lights that lined up and down Ocean Beach.
"Daddy? Where are we going? I want to stay here." The little girl sat on the king sized bed both her and her father shared for the small time they were in Ocean View.
"No we can't. It ain't safe, kid." He mumbled as he stuffed a few bricks of cash in his black duffle bag. Tommy was never a man who cut and run, but unfortunately, it had to be done. After the whole ordeal with Lance being a rat, he had more people from up north who wanted a piece of him. Instead of them coming to him, he'd go to them.
"But the pretty lights..." Francesca's bottom lip poked out into a pout. She didn't want to leave. The bright lights, the beach, all the pretty girls who gushed about how cute she was was going to be a distant memory soon. Tommy zipped up his bag and turned to look at her. When she saw his face, she knew that this was serious business.
"We can't stay here, alright? Stop your whining and be a good girl. Please?" He never said please. Ever. Fran nodded her head and sat back with her stuffed bunny. No matter where she went, she always carried that bunny. Tommy. Tommy was his name. Whenever her father wasn't around, she'd cling onto it like it was her life support. Asking for her mommy would be stupid. For a young child, she had a brain that most children didn't have. What did you expect? She was her father's daughter. She knew what made Tommy mad, happy, or homicidal. Asking about Mercedes was a no no, especially in times like these. Her light brown eyes glanced at the door when she heard a knock.
"What?" Tommy called out, his hand reaching for the handle of his colt python. His eyes were fixed on the door. That could be anyone out there. They were all after him and he'd fix em if he had to.
"It's me, Candy." The little girl's heart lit up when she heard Candy Suxxx's high, yet soft pitched voice from the other side of the door. He lowered his Colt, but still kept the door shut. He was busy. Too busy to be bothered.
"I have the car waiting out front for you." Candy called out to him again. Finally after he was done packing Francesca a small bag, he opened the door for her. When the busty redhead walked through the door, she scanned the disorderly room with a face of disapproval. "Sheesh, Tommy, you need to do some spring cleaning." The redhead laughed.
"Aunt Candy!" Fran ran over to Candy and hugged her waist, Candy returning the loving gesture.
"Hey Franny Fran! Daddy takin' care of ya?" She asked while stroking the little girl's soft curls that formed perfect pigtails which fell upon her shoulders.
"Yeah. Daddy said we have to leave. I'll come back, right?" Tommy shot Candy a look. A look she knew all too well. Without a moment of hesitation, she nods, knowing the truth. Candy would probably never see Francesca again and it broke her heart. Fran was like her own niece. She was there since day one, helping Tommy with things Mercedes wasn't able to. She was five years old now and she was still known as the baby. The baby of Vice City. The Don's Princess.
"Come on Francesca, it's time to go." Tommy stood at the door and waited for their small departure to end. Taking her away from her home messed with him, but it had to be done. Business was business. She would understand that sacrifices had to be made over time. She was a Vercetti. She will uunderstand.
"You be good, Franny Fran. Don't forget to write me." Candy kissed the girl's forehead and gave her a gentle push to her father. Fran made a promise to write her as soon as they got to their new. With that, she left with her father and packed into the spacious yellow and white Oceanic. As they drove down the streets that were lined with pretty neon lights and women with outdated hairstyles, Francesca took in everything one last time before they left their home. This was hers. This is hers. When she's of age, this empire would be hers. This made her feel a weird tickle in her belly. Was this what dad felt when he had his power? Rubbing her belly, Fran curled up in the backseat of the car and fell into a peaceful sleep.
Writer's Note: Bah, this was crap, but it's a start. I'll be adding onto this soon. Read, like, comment, and please, PLEASE, critique.