Chapter 1 Murdered

As I was getting ready for school, I heard my father summon me downstairs for breakfast. I hastily put on my backpack. "I'm coming," I yell, checking myself in the standing mirror.

My name is Cynthia De'Lacruz, and I'm in my last year of kindergarten, so you can guess my age; I'm only five years old, and I'm also my father's baby girl; he raised me alone since he said my mother is far away and will never see her again; I knew she was late, but my father never told me that.

My father, Lucas De'Lacruz, works in the mafia and always hides his business from me to protect me, but I knew and pretend I don't because he thought I was just a small girl.

I lace my shoes and proceed down the stairs to find my father waiting for me in the dining room. As soon as he sees me, a smile appears on his face, and he stands up, kisses my cheeks, and motions for me to take a seat.

"Here, princess, you should eat quickly so that you don't be late for school." He murmured this while lightly ruffling my hair. I nodded and chewed on my sandwich.

"Hmmm! "This is fantastic, Dad, I can't get enough of your sandwiches, they're always the best," I remarked, a smile spreading over my cheeks. "Dad, I adore you," I said.

"I adore you too, my darling girl," he whispered as he rushed over to pick me up. I'd finished my meal. I don't need a mother or anyone else because I'm always with my father. He's already my protector; after all, I don't know what a mother's affection feels like, but my father feels all the voids in my heart.

We drove from our house to my school, and I hurriedly jumped out of the car to say goodbye to my father. He called me back and handed me a box of chocolates for breakfast, and offered to pick me up right after school was out. I nodded and dashed to my class, my father standing nearby watching me till I entered.

The breakfast bell rang hours later, and everyone dashed out of the classroom. I couldn't since I was still drawing my father. I wanted to show him how pleased I was with his princess and baby girl in class. I was almost finished when I heard a wailing voice at the other end of the class; it was a little kid perhaps older than me, his head hunched onto his kneel, and I couldn't help but fold my sketching paper and mosey over to him.

"Hello," I murmured quietly. He didn't look up and kept going. "What's the matter with you?" I asked calmly, recalling how my father often asked me when I sobbed.

"Just leave me alone," he murmured, swatting my hand away.

I dashed off to get two chocolates from my backpack. "Will you be my friend?" I said as I extended my chocolate-covered hand to him. I noticed a bright smile on his face when he looked up. I nodded firmly after he paused for a moment. "I appreciate it," he said.

"What's the matter with you crying?" I inquired after taking a seat next to him.

"My father always abuses my mother, and she weeps a lot in pain," he remarked, as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"It's okay," I said, "I don't want to see my friend cry again." He grinned.

"How do I address you?" He inquired. "Cynthia," I said back.

"What age are you?" I inquired, intrigued.

"How about you, I'm seven years old?" He, too, inquired.

"I'm five years old," I explained, and we headed outside to play. "Here you go," he said.

"What?" I inquired, and he opened his palm for me to view, and what a lovely ring it was.

"Woah! This is stunning "I commended him.

"Yes, it is; I promise to give it to my close friend at school; I have one as well," he continued, showing me the same ring. "Thank you very much; I'll show it to my father when he arrives to pick me up. It's fantastic "I uttered, and as it was the end of breakfast, we both returned to our classes.

Finally, lessons ended, and I looked for my new acquaintance, but he was nowhere to be found. I glanced about the room but found nothing, As a result, I departed sadly, the students did not get to meet my father. I was going to unlock the car door when I overheard my father talking on the phone and couldn't help but listen in.

"I want to protect her, but in this mafia environment, I can't. My baby girl's life would be in jeopardy. Besides, what guarantee do I have that the boss will not brutally murder me? He assassinated John and Deere without remorse, despite their contributions to the organization. You're aware that Laura left him for me. So seeing me every day may serve as a reminder of that, and who knows what envy can do? It's safe to say I'm leaving town for good. I am even willing to abandon the country and continent for peace to rule "I overheard my father say.

"Listen, dude, I can't do it any longer, I'm sorry, my daughter needs a better life, and baby girl's life will be jeopardized." I'm not sure what the person on the other end said, but I heard my father's voice again. "Man, I knew the boss was the one who killed my wife, Laurence, but I'd never confronted him because I knew what he'd done for me, he was the reason I became a better person today and I will forever be indebted to him, but for peace, to reign, I will not endanger my princess life, so I'm leaving the mafia world in peace." I couldn't tell him I was eavesdropping, so I opened the car door, and Dad immediately ended the call.

"You're here, baby girl," he replied, smiling.

"Yes, dad, take a look at what I've got," I responded, holding up my left hand to show him my ring.

"Wow, where did you find this princess?" he inquired.

"A new friend gave it to me since he claimed I'm his special friend," I explain.

"How can I meet your new friend?" he inquired.

"I'll bring him to you tomorrow," I promised.

"Oh! It's lovely; I hope you express your appreciation."

"Yes, dad," I answered, telling him everything that had transpired at school. He drove me to the ice cream shop, where he ordered a tub for me, and we returned home. I was overjoyed as I played with my father's hair.

He got out of the car, and I got out too, our hands entwined. I was astonished to see our front door slightly open because Dad had previously shut it. before we left.

"Dad," I called. "Yes, baby girl."

"Why is the front door slightly open? Did you have any visitors?" I enquired.

"No, baby girl, maybe I forgot to lock it," he stated.

"No, dad, you lock it," I said.

"I believe we were robbed after we must have left."

Baby girl is certainly tricky, feisty, and wiser than her age; sometimes I wonder if she's really five years old. She astounds me in so many ways. Lucas mutters to himself as he leads the way inside.

As I proceeded further into the living room, I noticed that everything was exactly as our nanny had left it in the morning, so I sighed in relief.

"Princess, go drop your backpack and change your clothes; let me make lunch for us," dad replied, and I nodded and dashed away.

Just as I was about to enter my room, a pistol was levelled at me. My throat quickly dries and my breathing becomes difficult. Who exactly is this man? I question myself as I slowly re-enter the stairs, the pistol on my brow.

A loud cry from my lips, and I could hear my father's voice pleading with them to leave me alone.

"Boss, please stop scaring my young girl, she's just a small girl." My father pleaded, and I went toward him, engulfing him in a hug; I was terrified. "Who are they, Daddy? They're terrifying me "My voice shakes in dread as I say to him.

"Don't worry, princess, they'll be gone soon," he whispered soothingly as I slid my arm around his waist.

"Don't worry princess, they will soon leave," he said soothingly and I wrapped my arm firmly on his body.

"Why are you doing this to me, boss?" My father yelled. "I merely wanted to resign peacefully and without causing you any trouble." He stated.

"Remember the rules, no one departs after they join," The enormous man, who my father refers to as boss, said this while sitting proudly on our black leather sofa, his hand resting on the arm seat and his knee crossed. His face was frightening, and it was almost obscured by his hat. Two powerful men on each side of him.

"I want to give my daughter the finest life she deserves, and remaining in this world will only endanger her life; I want to be the best father she can ever have after you murdered my wife, her mother." My father screamed, and tears threatened to pour from his eyes. "You think I don't understand how you betrayed me, Boss? I was your right-hand man, your closest confidante, constantly at your service, your puppet, and yet I was the one you stabbed in the back. Nonetheless, I still admire you now and then, I'm still indebted to you, and I'll be eternally grateful because you helped me become a better person today."

"Damn it, Lucas, I never betrayed you! You betrayed me in the first place, knowing I loved Laura but still marrying her; I intended to avenge this, which is why I appointed you as my right-hand man. Laura rejected me because of you, and no one does that to the Mafia King!" He was ecstatic. So killing her was retaliation, and I don't fucking regret it." He yelled,

"Are you fucking staying for the final time?"

"I don't change my word, I'm no longer interested," My father said, and I was yanked from his grasp.

His two arms were handcuffed to each side of the chair, his leg was also tied, and I couldn't help but yell for aid, only to be smacked to shut up. My father begs them to keep me out of it, but it all falls on deaf ears as I hear a gun being fired in my father's hand. My father was in pain and bleeding, so a sharp iron resembling scissors was pushed forward to my father's left hand. As I was forced to witness my father in pain, I sobbed silently.

"It's okay, baby girl, I'm going to be OK," he said through the throbbing pain. He coughs up blood.

"Will you still leave the world?" When he was asked again, I couldn't help but wish he had said no.

"Rather than witnessing my only child die in front of me, I let her watch me. I repeat I will not rejoin; only let me free, and I swear to leave this entire country forever "My father stated.

"Jay, finish the work." The said boss began, his back to us, and before I knew it, my father's finger was being tormented with sharp scissors. A big machine was placed in front of him, and his cloth was cut from his body with a knife.

"Set the machine onto his chest and slowly drill his heart out," the boss commanded, as my father began screaming in anguish.

"I raced to the boss and clutched his leg, pleading, "Please forgive my daddy," and he crunched to my level, "Oh Princess, it's too late," he muttered as he threw me away. I took one last look at my father; he was in a lot of pain, the machine was slowly boring into his heart, and I heard him say one last time, "I love you!" "Baby girl. "I love you too, Dad," I murmured, and I went to my knees. I couldn't look up because my tears wouldn't stop, so I closed my eyes and prayed for my father. As the machine went in, I could hear him scream.

A few minutes later, I was forced to glance up, and something red was forcefully handed to me, and it was rapidly beating.

"That's your father's heart," he says. When the boss spoke out, my breathing got laboured. I couldn't figure out what was going on in my throat, and I gazed at my father's lifeless body with a large hole in his chest, blood pouring out over the floor freely from his chest.

Could this be true?

"Shoot her," the boss said as he walked elegantly out of our living room, his men trailing behind him.

I stopped crying because I would no longer have to live with the portrait of my father's horrific murder.

Chapter 2 Gambling

I groaned and awoke at an ungodly hour to the chirping of Mexico street crickets. The early morning sun shone brightly on my face, and I couldn't help but sit up and gather my wits.

I've been sleeping on the streets and wandering around for the past 14 years, ever since my father was brutally murdered in front of my eyes. It was a heartbreaking experience that has stayed with me, and I vowed to avenge my father's brutal death in the most painful way possible ever since the day I was able to flee.

I don't have any reason to shoot you, little girl. "You must flee right now," he said. "Do you have a way to follow?" I couldn't help but nod vigorously when he asked. "Now, get up and run until you can't anymore, and make sure no one sees you while you follow the back door, okay?" He whispers something into my ear.

I gave my father one last look before fleeing through the back door, my heart racing wildly, and I immediately smacked my leg on a stone, blood dripping down. The pain in my leg was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my heart; I am emotionally exhausted.

I was running down the next street when I heard a loud gunshot and my heart skipped a beat. I turned around and saw our house on fire, my heart constricted, my leg couldn't move any further, how could they be so cruel to burn my father inside that house? My chest became heavy at that moment, my vision blurred, and I sputtered unconsciously onto the floor.

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself in a new environment, and I realized immediately that everything had been a dream. I knew my father would walk into the room now and peck my cheeks, reminding me it was all a dream.

"Dad, she's awake!" I heard a small voice say something.

"Oh my goodness! How are you doing, little girl?" I heard another voice say, and I turn my head to the side from which the voice is coming, only to come face to face with an unknown person. To say I was perplexed would be an understatement. I couldn't get a word out of my mouth, and tears began to flow freely from my eyes.

"It's okay, baby girl," I shrieked from my bed, and everything came back rushing back to my head swiftly, the school, my dad, the boss, the machine, and my dad's heart everything flows onto my head and I collapse back on the bed.

When I heard them ask what happened, they hurriedly called a doctor, and before I knew it, a syringe was injected into my hand.

I was released from the hospital two days later, and this strange man drove me to his house. I was introduced to his wife and their only child, and all I got was a nod.

Mr Jackson, who took me in, assigned me a room with his son Lionel, who was the same age as me and in his final year of kindergarten.

Everything was fine with me, except Lionel's mother frequently bullied me when Mr Jackson went to work. I became a maid even though I was young, my age was never taken into account, and I never seemed to mind until the day Lionel came around to play with me, I told him to leave me alone, he refused, so I abruptly stood up from the bed and strangled his neck, he kept pleading and screaming but couldn't.

His mother walked up to me furiously and slapped me across the face, my expression still blank, and another one echoed on my right side cheeks.

She dragged me to the parking spot, threw me in the back seat, and then sat in the front seat with her son. And drove away quickly and with great haste.

The car came to a halt, and she motioned for me to exit, and I did so, only to hear the door slam shut behind me. She had already left and left me alone on the street before I realized what was going on.

It was getting dark, and I was still wandering around on the desolate Street. I'm hoping that someone with a good heart will come to my aid soon.

I awoke on the street the next day, my stomach grumbling, realizing I hadn't eaten anything since the previous morning. I was so hungry that I walked over to the garbage cans, which were only an inch away. I rummaged through it and discovered some leftover food, which I quickly brought out and ate. I went to rummage through another trash can, hoping to be lucky enough to save some for lunch.

"Are you okay?" I raised my head when I heard someone say this. I casually nod and continue because the person appears to be my father's age.

"Wait a minute!" He yells as if I care.

"I need to survive, mister, so please allow me to save for lunch," I explained.

"Woah! What age are you?" He inquired.

"I'm six years old," I replied.

"Six?" He was astounded, as if he had never believed me. "You must be a bright young lady for your age," he added.

I close the trash can and move on, leaving him behind. "Seriously, where do you live?" He inquired once more.

I was already sick of his questions. "Homeless," I said, continuing.

"I'm so sorry!" "Do you mind if I stay with you?" He asks, and I smile back, closing the bin and happily dusting my hand.

"Yes," he said, and then he led me to his car and drove out of that street.

We both got out of the car and went inside.

As soon as we stepped inside, he said, "Welcome to my home." The structure appears to be more of a warehouse, with workers at work. He drew their attention to me, introduced me, and warned them to be respectful of me. After the welcome, I felt good, and things weren't too bad.

Andrew Corona introduced me to his drug-selling business a week after I became acquainted with the locale. Gradually, I began to learn faster than expected, and as young as I was, I was forced to sell it to clients, and in a short time, I was making a lot of sales for him.

I quickly became his favorite, and he never hesitated to teach me everything there was to know about the job. After about a year, I began gambling and was always successful.

purchasing lottery tickets, going to casinos, playing slot machines, betting on sports, or gambling online We're all a part of the favorite on which I bet and always win, making Andrew happy.

He was always proud of me, and I made sure not to step on his toes. Only his PA gives me a headache; he was always lashing out at me whenever he could. He makes my stay miserable, but I don't mind because Andrew is always there to protect me from everyone.

Andrew took me out a year and a half later, saying I needed to catch my breath, that I was still a kid who needed to have some fun and make some childhood memories, and I agreed.

He took me to a park and bought me ice cream, cheese, and a large amount of chocolate. And all of a sudden, the situation reminds me of my father. I've missed him so much that it hurts. I wish I could have been with my father, and I wish he had never been killed.

"Are you okay?" Andrew inquired.

"Yeah, I'm fine; all I can think about is my father. He had planned to take me out over the weekend, but it never happened." I said this after we sat down together on a seat.

"You never tell me about your family, and whenever I ask, you cry. Do you mind telling me now?" He inquired, and I nodded.

"My father was murdered, and I never got to see my mother because she was also killed," I explained.

"That's so sad; you should be strong in order to become a strong independent lady." Be stronger, don't let your emotions get the best of you, get smarter and wiser, and then avenge your parents' deaths. Don't rush into it; instead, let it be a gradual process as you grow older."

"Are you aware of the agonizing retaliation?" I was perplexed when he asked, "Earn his trust," he said as he stood up, leaving me trailing behind.

"Thank you for everything," I said as we got into the car. "You are most welcome, Cynthia."

Andrew Corona was diagnosed with cancer six months later, and after receiving treatment in the hospital, he was discharged and asked to return the following week. Everyone was sad, but I was especially heartbroken because I had grown so attached to him.

Everything I did became less important, and I found it difficult to concentrate once more. I was always there for him on his sickbed. When he's sleeping, his PA will come after me and chase me out. He'll ask me to run errands that aren't necessary.

I returned one day to find Andrew dead on the floor. I limped over to him and gently touched his brow. It was as cold as ice, and I lifted his hand, but he was lifeless. My lips screamed, and I cried out in agony.

I dashed to his PA's office to tell him what I'd seen, but was perplexed by what my eyes met. He was busy making out with a girl while his boss died in front of him. When he called me in, I couldn't understand a word and wanted to leave.

I screamed, hoping he had simply passed out and would awaken soon.

"How come you badged in without first knocking on my door?" "Do you like what you saw?" I was disgusted when he asked.

"Uhm, you...you should check in on the boss, i. "I believe he passed out," I stammered, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Oh!" I'll check on him now, so get out and let me finish what I just started," he said as I stormed out of the office and shut the door behind me.

I wasn't even thinking clearly; I was just numb

As I returned to the room, I collapsed and sobbed on my knees; he was my only hope for survival. I stood up when I heard the door creak open and saw him walk in. Instead of looking at Andrew's lifeless body, he approached me, and I became terrified.

"You," he said, pointing at me. "I killed him because of you," he whispers in my ear and I shriek in panic.

Why? Why do you feel compelled to murder him because of me? "Do you despise me that much?" I inquired.

"Yes, I despise you!" I've despised you since the first time you were introduced to us here. I knew you were astute. That's why he picked you up off the street; you quickly became his favorite and even sold more; you always made me jealous, especially when you won after each gamble. He became ill and was diagnosed with serious cancer, and I knew he might die and leave everything we built together to you, whom he chose only two years ago." I was taken aback when he confessed.

I couldn't stop crying again; everything was so uncalled for!

Is this a game that can be won?

I couldn't take it any longer two weeks after the unbearable stay under the rule of Mark, his PA, as I became his puppet and was always punished at every chance. So I stuffed some drugs into my bag and fled in the middle of the night.

Chapter 3 Growing up