Chapter 29
Hello my readers! I promise you that I have not forgotten nor abandoned this story. I was in testing hell. I was taking various exams that pretty much determine my life. (Sucks, really does, but hey, that's the education system for you)Because a failed writer, equates to a writer assassinated by their pissed off parents. And as such I needed to devote myself 200% to it. Since I can't really focus on memorizing oxidation states while I am daydreaming about Xanxus and Amina.
I've tried and failed miserably.
But finally it's over! So I'm back!
And I promise you all that once July comes around I will be able to fully devote myself to this story. As such, I can do bi-monthly updates. *crosses fingers*
Tabula Rasa
(Because Latin is good for the soul)
"Let us then suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper void of all characters, without any ideas. How comes it to be furnished? Whence comes it by that vast store which the busy and boundless fancy of man has painted on it with an almost endless variety? Whence has it all the materials of reason and knowledge? To this I answer, in one word, from experience"
~ Locke
Amina looked around at the place where she had first started training with Coach. It seemed like an eternity and yet in reality it had been only a couple months. She was starting to become a firm believer of the idea that time never moved in a line, contrary to what textbooks seemed to be fond of stating, that there was a beginning and an end and that time simply moved forward. Rather she was coming to the conclusion that time was nothing more than a circle. You start at a certain point, and move forward, at least you think you do. Then you embark on a journey; only when you finally arrive, it was the place where you had originally begun. The only difference being that it was now you whom had finally changed. Life was nothing more than a shifting of perspectives.
She gazed at the rising sun, basking in its glow. Amina didn't even raise a hand to shield it's pervasive rays from blinding her eyes. Instead, she craved it. The autumn wind was encircling her, the cool feel of it intensified by the sweat on her body. She had been training once more, before the sun had even risen.
With her hands on her knees, the teenage girl was catching every breath she could. Her throat was parched, to the point even breathing hurt. She could feel the pull of muscles just crying out in the back of her leg. Her physical exercises were much stricter than before and though her stamina was exponentially better compared to the time before she got used to the Varia life; nevertheless, it was still an arduous task. This time though, Amina lulled it all down, shoving it all away. She was an obedient camper now. No matter how much her body just wanted to give in and stop, she kept on going, pushing her limits. And she would continue to do so, she would do whatever it took.
Because this time around, she knew what was at stake.
Coach also noticed this complete change in attitude. He knew it was tough on her, the longer he was with her, the clearer it became that she had absolutely zero background to their sort of lifestyle. Yet, there was something in her eyes, a spark that never wavered which provided a glimpse of her unwavering spirit.
It was precisely that, which gave him a strong indication of the type of person she could become. Sure, she was inexperienced, yet that was also an asset. Because that was what Amina was, a person who could be molded.
After all, a blank slate was the easiest to write on.
There was a lot of preparation to be done to prepare a coup-de-etat. And unfortunately there wasn't a how-to avaliable on google.
Life wasn't as easy as finding a walk-through for a video game.
A coup was serious business. She began to treat it as a grocery list, of course of grave consequences.
Amina ran through her mental checklist. People, check.
And boy, were there a lot of those. Since she had now been recognized as part of the rogue regime (a nickname she had dubbed, nobody else was creative enough) she has been meeting Cinquemani and their sympathizers left and right.
From Varia subordinates, to servants, heck even the pizza delivery boy was in on the deal.
Instead of there being a British invasion there was a rival family one.
Now of course a question that comes to mind after learning about this, which she of course asked in her usual grace and decorum, was how the hell did these people manage to escape notice? After all, from what she had garnered from her time here was that you don't mess with the Varia if you wanted to live. Not only that, for all their insanity and god knows how many daddy-issues, these people were smart. (Though she still doubted the depth of Leviathan's intellect, but she digressed)
The answer was actually much simpler than she had expected. It was that these people were so vastly underestimated, that they escaped notice. Which made sense, Xanxus made a habit of calling everyone scum and trash, and everyone else followed suit in treating other people as such. So all these people had to do was find an opening, keep quiet, bow their heads and bite on their tongues to not speak out and everything on the surface looks as impeccable as it always had been.
None of the Varia cared to notice the furtive glances of distaste born not out of a sense of fear, but rather of mutiny.
After all they would never expect someone to rise against them by infiltrating their own ranks. Because even if the enemy managed to achieve enough manpower, there was still the matter of skill and experience. Since, no doubt each person in the Varia got to their position with blood and sweat, the higher the position, the higher the death toll. One Varia commander could probably take on more than fifty men by himself. With such exponential odds stacked against those who opposed the Varia, who would even dare propose such a feat?
Said teenage girl with amnesia couldn't help the sheepish smile that graced her features as she walked alone in the Varia mansion. Amina chuckled at the absurdity of the situation to herself. It was moments like these that she wondered if perhaps she was the most insane after all.
Nonetheless, she knew, ironically enough, that this was their best shot.
And the others saw it too. Which is why even though she had been the one to propose it, the unwilling newbie, quickly it became the solid game plan.
After finishing the lunch shift, she had taken this improptu walking break. Soon enough she found herself near the morgue area and noticed Squalo was coming out of the room. That was strange, since Camilla's murder she hadn't heard about anyone else having died.
What could've possibly brought him there?
Never one to ignore her curiosity, she walked quickly to catch up to Squalo. "Rain commander!" She called out to him using his official title, Amina figured if she was going to be nosy, might as well start be addressing him with his status.
Squalo was busy, he didn't have time to deal with servants. "What do you want brat!?"
"Did someone die?"
He scoffed. "Not yet, though the Boss has been a hellish mood, someone is bound to soon." Unconsciously, Squalo rubbed his head in the area where he always got hit with a wine glass. Amina resisted the urge to chuckle, even he is traumatized.
As he was about to dismiss her, he realized who he was talking to. "You might be interested to know that the servant girl's family came to retrieve the body yesterday night."
"What?" Amina could not believe her ears.
The body had been reclaimed by the family? Something didn't sit right with Amina but since the death of her sorella nothing ever seemed right to her.
"VOII stop being such a fucking nut." Amina stared at him dubiously. "You work with Leviathan and you think I'm the one missing a few screws?" Touche, Squalo conceded. "Obsessive." A bit better she supposed.
It took a lot of obsession anyways to go through with what she was planning. Both in her hatred for Alphonse and the desire for justice she craves for Camilla.
Knowing that the young girl staring at him questioningly wouldn't budge until he said something, Squalo sighed. "Her mother asked for the body, were you expecting us to say no?"
"Mother?" Amina asked incredulously. That's impossible. Wait mother? Camilla didn't have a mother. Then who took her body and for what purpose?
Squalo waved a couple of signed official papers in his hand. "Yes, it's all right here. Last night, the mother came to retrieve the body. It was one of the few times the cloud subordinates actually bothered to fill out the paperwork correctly and completely."
Amina flinched at the mention of the cloud subordinates. They were involved? What in the world was going on?
Before she could question further, Squalo was ushering her out of the room, pointing his sword dangerously.
"VOIII, if you have time to be checking up on dead people, you can go help out with the damned paperwork!"
Amina sighed. Patience, a voice in her head told her. Everything would be answered in due time. There was nothing she could do now. Apparently the body had been reclaimed hours ago.
She didn't even bother speaking out. The reminder of what happened to the last man who spoke out against the Cloud faction was still very vivid in her mind.
Now she needed to focus on herself, it was only by keeping herself alive that she could not only find out the mysteries surrounding her, but get back at Alphonse for Camilla.
As the day came to a close and Amina survived another hectic day, instead of finding repose in slumbering, once more she couldn't. So she opted for her midnight walks instead.
Amina kept walking around, lost in her thoughts. Once more she couldn't sleep. Now between her own demons and the current planning. She needed her body to move so her mind can wander. In fact, her mind had left her body to a place so far away that she suddenly bumped damn smack into a hard wall. The impact made her glasses fly away as she fell to her knees.
"Owwww."
Sloppy, sloppy her. Oh yeah, she was definitely ready to challenge some badass assassins. Where the hell did her glasses get to? She was getting really sick of these semi-lit hallways; they were always such a pain. The teenage girl began to fumble around, squinting down to find her glasses, while her hands reached out to the surprisingly warm wall in front of her to recover her balance.
"That's my dick." A deep baritone voice resonated next to her.
"EEH!?"
The words quickly served to make her lose what little balance she had achieved while she made a scalding effort to flail her arms away from such an awkward area. It made her fall unceremoniously once more. Amina did not know any words capable enough (and she was actually very good with vocabulary) of expressing the mortification she felt in that moment. Her face felt so flush and warm at that moment, she thought she was going to pass out. She rather wished she did so she wouldn't have to deal with the situation at hand.
Literally.
Note to self, losing glasses and daydreaming is hazardous to one's health.
Unfortunately, from her proximity Amina could discern who was in front of her now that she grew a bit more accustomed to being without her glasses in the dimly lit hallway.
There was no way she could miss those condescending wildfire eyes that stared at her with a twinge of amusement. They were such a stark difference to the darkness they were in.
Even if she couldn't see him, the sheer magnitude of the man who wield such a raw and powerful aura could simply be felt.
Since the universe adored her so much, out of all the people she could run into in the hallway that resided in the mansion, it happened to be no other but the very dear and wonderful Varia Boss.
Who she had previously just a few days earlier bossed around and threw a wet towel at.
And now whom she had just molested.
Holy Swiss Chocolates.
Amina gulped nervously. "Yeahhh, um, sorry about that..." She couldn't even say out loud what she did. She was trying extremely hard to wipe it away completely. Unfortunately, the one time amnesia could come in handy, it wasn't working. A nervous chuckle escaped her as she stared up at the impassiveness coming from Xanxus. "I'll just be going away now, you know?" And hopefully evaporate out of existence from this humiliation.
How was she not dead yet?
Though she was sprawled on the floor with her back upright, facing him directly, when she tried to inch away, she froze in her tracks when she heard the cocking noise of his gun.
"Trash, who gave you permission to leave?"
The short haired brunette and just looked at him in silence. His expression turned even haughtier at her silent submissiveness. When she at least tried to stand up to be at the same level instead of staring up from the floor, he glared at her intensely. No words were spoken, Xanxus saw the realization in her eyes and he saw that quick flash of indignation storm in her eyes. He could see her trying to reel it in and he looked on with patronizing satisfaction.
He saw the spark die away, her body pliant and obedient as she looked up at him directly without even her glasses as a barrier, she looked to him so young and weak. Without her glasses she was all youth and naivety, with those dark brown eyes resembling a doe.
Until of course she opened her thick lips. "Come posso aiutarti, My Lord?" The last word uttered deliberately, sarcasm underlying every syllable just as the foreign word was spoken in contrast to the sentence. With that the spark was back, as was the unwavering light. This was no lifeless little doll. He understood exactly how much she was saying in that mocking succinct manner of hers.
Less was always more.
As if to say that the last word was just as out of place as both of them were.
Amina noticed the shift of displeasure, and she cocked her head slightly to the side, a small smile of satisfaction of her own mirroring his previous one.
He promptly pointed his gun at her in response. Violence of course being the next strategy when the Varia Boss didn't get the results he wanted.
"Scum, what do you think you are doing?"
"Trying to stand up but apparently I'm not allowed to." Her voice dripping acid in contrast to the subservient attitude she was excluding.
She could easily see he was getting agitated. This little girl was a feisty piece of work. Xanxus could easily see that she was bound to push all his buttons.
He shifted his gun slightly to the side and just as Amina was feeling pretty self-righteous and a bit triumphant, she felt the fire ball speed by her face. It was the surprise that made her jump ungracefully.
Xanxus laughed at her sudden whelp of surprise and the way her eyes widened so much they might as well have popped out of her sockets.
Amina's quick fear for her life was quickly overrun by her deep seated sense of anger.
The last thing she needed now was to be the personal comic fodder for her mentally unstable Boss.
Soon enough she was going to become everyone's personal punching bag.
And that was where she drew the line.
"Gee, I'm so glad that I could've amused you this evening. Really, there has been nothing that I've aspired more for." The brunette girl gave the older man a snarky look.
He glanced at her in slight distaste. Perhaps it might be best to get rid of her now before she truly became a pain. He had enough of those already working for him. Amina, regardless, remained nonplussed.
Nevertheless, this was a lively girl, which at this point still surprised him. She had been here for a few months, and he had interacted with her a couple of times now. Xanxus hadn't dwelt much on her, never one to openly share his thoughts or plans, the truth was this Cinquemani business was increasingly making him agitated. Much of his time was devoted to getting rid of this problem. It was more of a pain than a danger. He won the battles that was for sure, but he had yet to win the war. A war that was increasingly getting dragged out more and more. To the point even the old geezer's guardians were starting to inquire. Meddling bastards.
Only Squalo was the one who had a real sense of how much Xanxus was not in a cavalier attitude.
The Varia was his and he didn't like anyone, much less them, telling him what he should or should be doing.
This whole problem could easily be resolved if he could just storm into the main Cinquemani headquarters and kill every single one of those fucking scum.
But of course, that was not an alternative for the ever spineless and blood avoiding Ninth. Even in his old age, the man had yet to lose his stubbornness and hold on to that useless diplomatic and olive branch policy.
It was making the Vongola and by extension the Varia look weak.
His bad mood grew increasingly more with each second as he thought about it. The evidence was right in front of him. After all, things had to be going to hell in a handbasket for even a fucking servant trash to have the balls to talk back to him.
In the foreboding silence and the scrutiny of his intense gaze, Amina let out a deep rooted sigh.
"I'm not sure what exactly it is you do with your time, dearest Boss, but surely you have better things to do than glare at teenage girls and make them sit lower than you just to satisfy your ego." Honestly, had it not been for his eyes she would've almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. The audacity of it all lulled any sense of panic that his presence could create. It was as if he was an ancient Siam monarch who found it improper to have anyone at any given time be at his height or taller.
They were in the twenty-first century for goodness sake!
He dismissed her jibe as if she had been nothing more than a fly and continued on with his early inquiry. "Trash, what are you doing here?" The words low and clipped.
"An excellent question. One I've been trying to figure out myself. Afterall, it's not like all little girls go and sit on their parent's lap and say 'I want to be a servant one day!' She completed the sentence with all the enthusiasm of an actress bent on recreating the scene; even changing her voice accordingly for dramatic effect.
The Varia Boss snorted inspite of himself. Then he caught himself and scowled. Yet, Amina noticed in those couple of seconds that it almost could've become a sort of banter.
In that miniscule window of time, he had let her in.
Xanxus realized it too. How easy it was to fall into this insignificant girl's flow.
He was the Varia Boss. She was a no-name trash. He must not ever forget that.
And he had to make sure she didn't either.
Xanxus saw the surprise reflected in those dark brown eyes when he outstretched his hand and harshly lifted her up onto her feet. No time to wonder what was going on, she was pressed against the wall with his strong hand gripping her throat.
So weak and pitiful. He felt the jugular underneath his index finger, pounding blood so quickly as if the vein itself worried it might be it's last.
"I'll ask you again trash, and this time you better answer. What are you doing here?"
"Walking." Even in this life or death circumstance, she was hesitant with her reply. It was vague and they both knew it. Her movements now had been innocent enough. The only problem was, her previous actions as well as what she has been planning with the Cinquemani are enough to more than justify him to burn her to a crisp.
Amina knew, even with her vision impaired that the Boss was in a dangerous mood. Which meant that any answer of hers, even remotely not to his liking, could become the end of her.
And even if that didn't occur, there was more potential for disaster. She had absolutely zero background in mafia politics, anything she could say could potentially give way into him putting two and two together of the plans underway.
His grip tightened, Amina was gasping for air. The scalding force of his calloused hand was exerting a lot of pressure on her windpipe. All in all, sooner or later, if she didn't say anything more, she was dead anyways.
"I-I needed to..think." The young girl was croaking by now. Her throat was burning in cause of the saliva getting jammed down her throat against the increasing pressure of his hand and lack of oxygen.
Still that burning male hand remained there and meanwhile, her life was ticking away.
Amina squeezed her eyes shut. Her mind going into full-fledged panic mood, it just blurted the first thing on it's mind.
"I can't sleep." Amina wheezed."I-I can't stop thinking!" She ground out at last in one desperate try to say anything. He let her go abruptly and she fell to her knees, louding gasping for air. "I w-want to. I can't-" She took a deep breath, she couldn't talk she was too agitated. "I see it all, over and over again." Desperation underlined every syllable, she clutched the carpet underneath her hands. "The screams, blood, fire but the darkness is the worst of all."
"Fire burns. Darkness consumes. And the thoughts remain, the ceaseless, unanswered 's the uncertainty that kills me every time."
She had not met his eyes at all during her admission. But when she look again, she didn't like being so out in the open; being so honest. In fact she hated it, even as every time her lungs relished the sweet intake of air; she hated the price she had to pay for it. That Amina had to look so weak in front of him. However, amidst it all, though he may not like her or she him, there was a brief moment of understanding. A link between the two of them.
Both knew how it was to lay awake at night, not fearing the fire or the darkness but the silence amidst it all.
Xanxus looked at the haunted girl in front of him. The Prada frames acted as an indifferent barrier to the world and now it was gone. She was such a bambina; with that short hair and her glasses off her face, her eyes looked wider and reflected more of the turbulent emotions were emotions she had never voiced to anyone, barely even to herself. Biting her lower lip in uncertainty, she gazed up at him and looked so vulnerable.
"Trash, don't you dare walk in my corridor again unless I give you permission to."
This little doll of a girl would only be a nuisance when he walked his corridor at night thinking. A habit he also shared. One he did not want others privy to.
Not even caring for her response, but knowing that she would comply he left her there on the floor in her weakened state.
United States-New York
Angela Guerrero sat, eyes glazed, body frozen in the sterile morgue room. No windows to let the light in, only the flickering brightness of the fluorescent lights.
Her eyes were red, swollen from crying, the streams making an impressionable mark on her cheeks.
This was the state David found the woman whom he had loved more than life itself.
A mere shadow of the energetic prideful woman she had been. A smile so frequent and bright it might as well have been the sun. Always shining without fail, day after day in its resplendent glory.
But it seems that a darkness has shrouded the sun and no light can reach anyone now.
Angela was aware of his presence. They both knew it, but neither said anything. He stood off to the side and she there alone in her reverie. Until finally she opened her mouth, the only indication that there still existed a semblance of a soul within her.
"Time of death, 3:25 am."
"I never thought it would be my daughter. It's always the neighbors kid until it happens to you."
"Do you know her birthday just passed? I didn't get to celebrate my own daughter's quinceanera."Tears swelled in Angela's eyes. She crashed her face into her hands, willing it to swallow her whole, falling to the ground, sobs molding themselves into screams. To the point they became indistinguishable. "My baby." The only words that she could utter, masked in grief, disappointment and heartache.
"I had been a mother for 15 years, David. You never stop feeling like a parent, but the problem is, what good is a mother with no child? What does she become then?"
"How about the father who never got to be with his daughter because her mother took her away?" He asked pointedly. "What does he become then?"
Angela went livid. "Don't you dare compare yourself. You know why I had to go. Your lifestyle isn't the ideal place for raising children. She would've gotten hurt because of your work." She spat the word.
"Well then, congratulations. She never got hurt, she ended up dying instead."
If the man himself had punched Angela, it would've leagues of less damage than those words did. David had never once hurt her, neither physically nor emotionally. Not even when they went through their particularly hasty and final separation. The only emotional pain caused by him was self-induced, she had left him in hopes of offering her daughter a better life.
Words couldn't describe how deep her pain went at thinking, that even with the separation, this tragedy still occurred. Which was precisely why, even though David knew fully well the implications of his statement, why he even bothered saying it. Not even born entirely out of spite but rather that the mother of his child had taken a humongous gamble in leaving him and he had to suffer for it as well. It was her insistence that she live a normal mundane teenage life.
Now look where that had gotten them.
5 hours prior
"Patron we found her."
The older man looked at his subordinate with cold irate eyes. "About time. I was wondering what year you were planning on doing your job." The subordinates who had gathered flinched and they looked away guiltily, he said no more and slipped away towards the door. However, he could still feel the unease in the room and narrowed his eyes as he noticed they still weren't looking at him in the eye.
"Anything anyone else wants to add before I go?"
It was a pregnant silence. All the men swallowed as the older salt and peppered haired man bore right through them impatiently. He was a man of few words but he always got his point across.
"Don't." One of the men spoke up quietly.
He raised an eyebrow at the man, face impassive. "Don't what?"
"Don't go and see her Patron." Another one spoke up this time. His normally dark eyes flashed to a glacier hue. They all stood together against him in silent agreement.
"You dare command your superior, Gonzalez? Let me remind you this is my daughter that we are talking about. One minute she was supposed to be hanging out with a classmate after school and the next thing I know said friend appears dead and my daughter disappears. She has been missing for months, her mother had no idea where she has been or what happened." He seethed at his men, pent up frustration over the last couple of months had taken his toll on him. By now he probably had more white hairs than dark ones.
And he always had a tendency for a salt and pepper haired look since he was in his late twenties.
"So I'll be damned if anyone is going to stop me. This is family we are speaking of, stand in my way and face the consequences."
Had David stopped for a while and asked his men the reasons for their words, the moment he entered the room, perhaps the air wouldn't have left him so abruptly. Yet, in his impatience and desperate for answers, he charged through.
He stood there, in his crisp white suit looking at the corpse that lay on the table. With no one and nothing else there, it didn't take long for his mind to know whose body that was.
Time passed and his right-hand man came into the room. As opposed to the formal wear el Patron always wore, a consistent testament of his power, Nacho always chose to wear less formal wear. Even now he sported jeans and a regular black shirt.
He waited a while before he spoke, even then he kept his distance. Both out of respect and wary of how David would react to the news.
"Your men told me what happened. This is why they didn't want you to see."
David was against the wall, his head pressed against it. The cool feel of the stone providing no comfort.
Nacho took the silence as his cue to continue forward. "An anonymous source lead our men to Celeste."
"Did she suffer?"
There was a pained look in his eyes. "Dav-"
"I asked you a question. I expect answer and don't you dare bullshit me. Did. She. Suffer?" The words clipped and low, they bordered on violence.
Nacho closed his eyes in shame and repentance. "From what little the forensic technicians could get from the state of the body, she was stabbed and they see signs of a struggle, even sexual assault. But they think the cause of death was the blood loss."
Everything went quiet then. Nacho said no more, he knew that it was best to just give David a bullet to the brain instead of dragging out the awful truth. David remained immobile, never taking his eyes off the body, not even looking at his right hand man. After a couple of minutes, David clenched his fist, his nails drawing blood.
"Who did this?" David asked quietly, and his right hand gave no response. He couldn't, though he did want to.
The sweet little girl, with her straight brown locks and the darling smile. She inherited her mother's looks, though a lighter shade of skin and hair. Her light mocha colored skin always matched the chocolate brown eyes.
"WHO DID THIS TO MY DAUGHTER?" He walked slowly next the corpse he couldn't even recognize. Trying to imagine the soft brown locks he would thread his fingers through when she was a small child. He had not seen his daughter since she was 5 years old. Since he had the blow out with Angela.
David could still hear her laughter, see the brightly colored headbands with little bows. The flurry of movement. And his mind could not juxtapose the two with the dead barely recognizable burnt and older corpse in front of him.
"Shall we notify her mother?" His right hand asked dutifully. He didn't even bother with saying the typical sentiments of grief, both of them knew it wouldn't help in anything. So Nacho didn't bother, David had his own grief, no need to add on his.
"No of course not. Bad enough she's dead, no need to tell Angela the specifics. That our girl was-" No he could not even finish that sentence. David could not bare to usher such defiling words into existence. Nacho looked at his boss silently, seeing the haunted look in his eyes, rummaging a hand through his locks over and over again.
"In a couple of hours, call Angela to the morgue. Get one of the men to substitute for the morgue practitioner and make up a plausible story for her disappearance and cause of death. The body is unrecognizable anyways.."
"Dios mio," He too had the curse of an overactive imagination and his already white skin became a ghostly pale. "Mi'ja, mi florecita salvage." My daughter, my wild flower. His voice was distraught, filled with the words he could not say. The promise he was unable to keep.
Without saying a word he got him his favorite liquor, a glass of Angostura rum and mixed it with ice and passed it to him. He took it and wolfed it down in one gulp.
He laughed a bitter dark laugh as he swished the ice in his cup. "I have money, sizeable amount of men under my command and hundreds more afraid of me. I have terrorized other families and killed so many. My reputation precedes me when I walk into a room."
Yes Nacho knew this was very true.
David walked to his daughter's body that was covered by the blank and traced one finger from the top of her head down to the end of her chin. "Somehow with everything I had, what does it matter if I could not even protect her?"
"It is not entirely your fault, you know Angela did not permit you to be with her. She left with the child, it was her choice. They had nothing to do with you." Nacho stated, deep rooted anger underlying the serious tone. It was the one thing he never forgave Angela, even with all her goodness, her pure heart and the love his Boss had for her.
He could never forgive her for walking out, much less with la niña.
"She had nothing to do with me. She was free of all fault and sins. Celeste was intelligent, driven she had such a bright future ahead of her."
"All of her mother's fears came to life, not even with me out of her life, kept her safe."
"But there is one thing you can count on. When I find the men responsible, wherever they may be. I will find them and when I do, I will make sure that their deaths are hundred times fold the pain that my daughter felt. Even if it means I have to burn down cities to do so and make rivers bleed."
Nacho shuddered at the dark ominous tone. His Patron wasn't called Steel Lord for nothing.
He grabbed his gun and explored every contour slowly. Seeing through his mind's eye every single person that was going to pay.
"No one messes with la familia."
Present
As David walked out of the New York morgue, after making sure that no police got wind of the situation for further questioning into his affairs, he lit a Cuban cigar. Nacho would soon make sure that the story that his daughter had run away from her New York city home and was involved in a car accident would be all that anyone knew.
Including Angela, she didn't need to know the particulars of the situation involving his daughter.
David was not going to mention that he wasn't fully convinced that it wasn't his ran a pale white hand through his hair, the cigar in his mouth barely providing any support. David hadn't even mentioned his suspicions to his right-hand. He could already hear what he would say, that he was in denial and it was the grief talking.
Yet, it was something he sensed, even if it was a bare gut feeling, His intuition had never failed him before; even when all the evidence points to the contrary.
After a while, David began walking, he couldn't stay still. He needed to walk to think clearly. There were too many questions surrounding not only his daughter's disappearance, but the state she was found in.
His men who had supposedly found his daughter, didn't actually find her. It was anonymously presented through a series of contacts who led them to the discovery of the body.
A body that clearly hadn't been in the tri-state area and had been preserved for some while. As if expecting it to be exported long distance.
Furthermore, the only thing linking that unrecognizable burnt body to his daughter were the few solid blood cells on the outside and the brown hair strands barely connected to the body that his best forensic technicians had garnered.
There were only two possible explanations for this. True, it could be that this was revenge against him. But even that was improbable. He had little to no contact with his daughter since she was five years old.
The second one, which deep down he was counting on was that, this was a big cover-up. That this body wasn't his daughter's but someone wanted it to be. They counted that between the burn job and his absence in his daughter's life; David would just take things at face value.
Clearly, whoever was involved didn't know jack about him.
Because he was going to find his daughter, no matter where she could be. Evidently, Angela's precautions and methods weren't enough to keep their daughter safe.
So it was his turn now. Because no one was going to wage a custody battle for a daughter that had already been pronounced dead.
He was going to do things his way.
And regardless if his daughter was dead, alive or somewhere in between.
He was going to make sure everyone involved paid dearly.
Things I want to clarify/correct:
-la niña- the little girl
-I made a mistake in the last chapter about Xanxus' frozen state. It's been ages since I actually watched the show and had forgotten it was 8 years instead of 10. Rest assured it doesn't change the plot in any way shape or form. Thanks LittleShyCloud for bringing it to my attention!
Thanks to all who reviewed, and the anonymous person who didn't leave any name but gave a worthwhile review! Reviews always make me smile :D
To said person, you should sign in/make an account so I can give you your proper dues, but thanks anyways!
List of Awesome additions: Xepharia
KHRLover1997
LadiiWhisper
Nomurai
LittleShyCloud
Legare Virtuoso
Alice-Italy-Haruhi
Ingmina
Reiko Narukami
