In the kitchen, Tommy was unpacking their things while his daughter was watching the TV.
"That damn Giggle Cream commercial." Tommy grumbled to himself as he folded his teal flower patterned Hawaiian shirt and sat it on the small rounded kitchen table.
He hated the damn commercial, but Francesca loved it. She'd sing and clap along to it. As much as he hated the Giggle Cream commercial, he couldn't help but gush over how cute she was when she sang to it. Poking her tiny hip out in a sassy way and sticking her finger in the air like she was some pop diva from the 80s. It was truly an adorable sight. As cute as it was, he still didn't want to hear it.
"Franny, turn that damn thing down. You're young, you ain't gotta have it up that loud."
"You're just upset because you don't like it." She pouted and crawled up to the outdated TV to turn it down.
"Yeah yeah, are you done Miss Sassy? I gotta take you to meet some people and you're definitely not going in your pajamas." He cocked his head to the side and pulled out a small dress for his little girl. Only the finest fabrics touched her body and Tommy made sure of that.
"New people?" She hopped over to her father and stood in front of him, looking up at him with soft brown orbs. "Christ she's an angel." He thought to himself as he looked down at her.
"Yeah, new people." He took a seat in the chair while lifting her to sit on his knee. "I think you'll like these people."
She wrinkled her nose and skimmed around their small kitchen. The one back home was WAY bigger and stylish than this. It was dull. The painted cupboards' white paint were chipping away, the wooden floors were dulling something awful with tiny red blots, with one assumed was blood. The living room was a simple powdered blue and white scheme. It was the nicest spot in the dingy "home." The place only had one bedroom. It wasn't all that nice, a simple yellow paint that dulled and withered over time. It had a nice queen sized bed with homemade lavender stitched quilts. Tommy slept on the couch while Franny slept in the bed.
"When are we leaving here? I don't like this place. It smells bad and all the pretty lights and water are gone." She fiddled with the laced embroidery of her dress and turned her head to look up at a busy Tommy who was trying to figure out what to do with his daughter's disorderly mane.
"I don't know, Princess. Soon, I hope. What do you want to do with your hair?" He grabbed the small brush and started to brush her hair into tame waves of brown silk that curled perfectly.
"Flowers! I want flowers in my hair. Like a princess."
Flowers? Aw hell, where the hell would he get- ah. There flowers on the window sill that were in full bloom. Forget-Me-Nots.
"Alright then, flowers it is." Francesca giggled in delight. She loved it when her father did her hair. She felt like a legit princess when he did it. Tommy was no master hairdresser, but Candy taught him just enough to get him by. He started to french braid her tresses into a braid. Normally, he'd get teased for doing his little girl's hair. Well... teased behind his back. People wouldn't dare tease him to his face. Besides, if he didn't do it, who would? Her mother wasn't around to do it. It was a challenge, and Tommy isn't a man to turn down a challenge.
Braiding was one hell of a task. "Patience, dammit. Gotta have patience." God how did women do this? It was tedious as hell! His fingers were too big and made the task harder than what it really was. When he was done, he carried her into the small bathroom and held her up to a mirror. Her eyes were blown wide as she admired her father's work. She looked like a real princess from the stories her Aunt Candy used to read.
"I look beautiful! Like a princess!" The five-year old exclaimed as her father let out a warm laugh at her reaction. She always overreacted over the littlest things and he found it cute.
"Well, I'm glad you like it. I tried my hardest." He put her on her feet and handed her a pair of white stockings to go under her dress. "Now, do you remember how to put these on?" She nodded and took them into her tiny hands eagerly.
"Yeah, Aunt Candy and mommy taught me how. You can go bye-bye now, daddy." Francesca pushed her father out of the bathroom as he put his hands up in defense.
"Okay okay, I'm going. Sheesh, no need to get all bossy on me." He closed the door behind him and sat at the table, burying his face in his hands. He regret dragging his daughter into all of this. This wasn't the lifestyle he wanted to be apart of. She was supposed to go to school and live a life free of crime. The dark thought made him sigh gruffly and lean back in the rickety chair.
"I'm getting to old for this shit," He said with another sigh. "what the hell did I do in the past life?" He closed his eyes for what seemed like an eternity until the bathroom door opened. "All ready!" "Well, won't you look at that? Didn't even need help." Smiling, he sat up straight and observed "his little princess" in her little get up.
"You look beautiful, Franny. Come on over here and get your flowers." He took the tiny white flowers out of their soil and cleaned off the stems while she observed his hands and their gentle handling of the tiny flowers. "Turn around." She did so and he began sticking the tiny flowers her braid. He could feel her tiny body trembling in excitement. Finishing up with her flowers, Tommy placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "You're now officially a princess." She smiled and turned around to hug Tommy tightly.
"You're the best daddy in the world." He held her in his big arms and closed his eyes. Never. He never pictured having a child. All he really cared about his money, his drugs, and his respect. Never was he this close or sentimental with anyone in his life. He was a convicted murderer, psycho, and drug dealer. But for her, he'd attend tea parties and dress up just for her amusement. He loved his little girl.
"Alright, let's meet the 'new people.'" He helped her with her jacket and led her out to the yellow and white Oceanic with little rust by the hub caps. It was the brightest thing on the block. Just how he liked it. If it got stolen, he'd know exactly who had because of how bright it was. Not like anyone would steal from him anyway. People were dumb, but they weren't that dumb. Opening the front door of the car, Tommy placed Francesca in the front seat and buckled her up. She was afraid to ride in the front seat with him. He couldn't drive civilized to save his life. Whenever he would the corner, she'd have to brace herself and cling to her seat or anything to keep her from flailing like a rag doll. Once he got into the car, they pulled away from their small apartment.
Her eyes were fixed on the buildings that lined the streets. Some of them were brightly painted, some were bricked with windows missing. As her father drove further into the city, for once he was actually driving civilized, houses, like the ones on Starfish Island, started to appear. They were huge! People with power lived in these houses, even at the age of five she could tell. The role models in her life were there to demonstrate that. All her life, she was raised in that big estate with all the money in Vice City and a new car in the garage every week. Oh yeah, they were in big and it was going to stay that way too. Because of how cautious Tommy was with his business, he would never fall from grace like the previous 'dons' before him. Why? One, he never took from his own supply. In fact, he never did drugs. The worst he did was a shot of whiskey whenever he felt the need. Two, he cut all ties with people who were druggies. Ken, his lawyer, Tina, a plaything who used to handle his money and other 'needs', and Mercedes. Though he had little contact because of their daughter. He'd be damned if his operation was to go down because of some junkie who couldn't control their urges. Just the very thought made him clench his jaw.
About ten minutes into their drive, they approached a house with a huge black fence that was opened to them. Nothing but black Infernuses and Cheetahs lined the driveway.
"Fuck." Tommy muttered under his breath and pulled up behind a black Infernus that outdid the yellow and white Oceanic tenfold. He hated it. The sharply dressed man got out of the car and walked over to the passenger's side to open his daughter's door for her. She got out with a small hop and fluffed out the skirt of her dress. Walking up to the door, her eye caught a sharply dressed woman in a black and red dress that stopped just above her knees. She had olive colored skin and jet black hair that was braided into a chicane that rested at the nape of her neck. The diamonds around her neck gleamed in the light. Francesca couldn't figure out why she was infatuated with the woman. Maybe it was because of the way she looked and dressed, or the fact that she looked just like her mother. Her eyes lowered to the ground as she started to walk through the crowd of Dons and mistresses that seemed to pay no mind to her. She was so short no one noticed her. It smelt nice in the spacious hall. Like Italian spices, wine, and the many scents of cologne and perfumes wore by many. What were they doing here anyway? Daddy hated people. He hated just one person in his office let alone ten to twenty of them. The curious little girl continued wandering around, examining her surroundings. On the walls were painted portraits of men in their finest suits and women in their best dresses. Little did she know that her father was looking for her.
"Goddammit, where is she?" He fought through the crowds of people that were in his way. "Move can't you see I'm walkin' here?" He mused while looking for his curious little girl. He needed to find somewhere to see through the thick crowd and wait. She was bound to come by him. Tommy knew she couldn't be away from him for too long and she come running to him.
Soon, she started to worry. She was in a big room full of people that she didn't know... without her father. Her walk turned into a full on sprint. Bumping into the big men and lanky women who crowded her path and line of sight.
"Daddy!" She called out to him and stopped to looked around for him. "Daddy! Where are you?!" There was no use, her tiny voice was clouded by the noise of other people talking and doing whatever they were doing. She went to go run again, but smacked right into a man's stomach that wasn't her father.
Claude grunted when a little girl bumped into him. His brows were furrowed, thin lips pulled into a frown. Her widened hues made him think he did something wrong. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the daughter of a don.
"I-I'm sorry sir. I didn't mean to hurt you."
Claude said nothing and bent over to pick up her forget-me-not that fell from her braid. He toyed with it in his fingers before handing it back to her silently. She took it from him and signaled for him to bend down, shifting his dark browns, he bent down at her request. Francesca put the flower behind his ear and smiled softly. He didn't feel right in that moment. He didn't feel right at all.
"I'm Francesca Vercetti. What's your name?"
Silence.
"I'll just call you Mister Spiky Head." She giggled and toyed with his fringed hair. This caused Claude to frown. He wasn't used to children, he didn't even know how to interact with them. He just went with whatever she was doing so she wouldn't cry. He hated when children cried, he hated it when anyone cried. It was probably one of the most irritating sounds around.
"Hey, what are you doing with my kid?!" Tommy pushed forward and glared at the man in front of him. "Francesca who the hell is that? I don't care, get away from him."
The little girl stayed with her new friend and shook her stubbornly. "No, he's my friend!" Claude's eyes shot from Tommy's stern scowl to Francesca's stubborn pout. "Damn they're both stubborn as fuck."
"Francesca Rose Vercetti. Get away from him. Now." The last part of his sentence sounded cold. It was so cold it almost made Claude flinch. Pulling a daring move, she kissed Claude's cheek and skipped up to her father. His eyes had a hard gaze. He gave his daughter credit, she was brave for that, but it landed her in a rough spot with him. Claude's eyes were wide. "What the hell was that for?" Francesca had an expression of bravery on her face before she saw a pair of thick Italian fingers thump her forehead.
"Ow!" She exclaimed in pain and rubbed her forehead free of the sensation of being thumped. Again she looked up at him with a huge bratty pout.
"The next time I tell you to do something more than once, it will be more than just one thump. Now let's go. And you," he pointed at Claude who was sitting up against the wall with an expression of confusion on his face, "you're coming with me."
Claude's P.O.V
Wait, was this the little girl I was sent to protect as a personal body guard? Vercetti... Vercetti... I knew that name sounded familiar when the little girl introduced herself. Reaching into my inner coat pocket, I pulled out the picture Toni sent to me. Yup, it was her alright. No one had eyes like hers. They weren't just a brown. They were like a copper, but brighter. She looked like she could have been four or three in this picture. She aged a lot in a short amount of time. I turned the picture to read the neat cursive that was written on the back. Francesca Rose Vercetti. Age 3. So much for keeping up with the times. It was a woman's handwriting, her mother must have known they were coming down here for the whole 'Forelli and Cipriani' fiasco. What the hell would I do with a kid? I never talk! The quieter you are, the more work you get handed to you. With no Italian blood in my lineage, just French and distant Native American, it was harder to get work. That's if you have a history of running your mouth when it wasn't needed. People think I'm a mute which works for me.
Tommy left the mansion with Francesca holding his hand and Claude following behind them to their car.
"I thought you didn't like him, daddy?"
"I don't, yet." He turned his head to look over at him and gave a curd nod.
"Welcome to the Vercetti Gang, Claude."
