The sweet smell of seduction

Sicily, Italy

The leaves fall from the trees determined by autumn, without any choice as to their fate. These are laws that command the natural order of things, and with human relationships it is not much different. There are situations that we can only follow the course, without choice, because what is at stake, is what matters and nothing else.

"Are you sure you can trust this woman?", Asks the apprehensive maid.

" That would be foolish, Selina. She's a greedy woman and she can change sides at any moment, depending on who pays more", Still my eyes are following the falling leaves, and just like the tree, I have lost a lot with the coming of the seasons. First my mother and then my father.

Lorena was right. Danger is always lurking and one hour or another, your turn will come in the roulette wheel of death. I am no longer the innocent little girl who could not see the black and white of reality. I am one of the biggest leaders of the mafia and I don't deny that being able to continue the work of generations was satisfying until I learned that now a life depends on mine...

" I need to take another direction in my life. I will run away in a week! I don't want my son to grow up here.", It's my decision and there's nothing that will make me change it.

" You have achieved so much, Francisca! No woman has ever come this far", She insists.

" But not so much power was able to bring my family back. And I don't want them to take someone important away again...", I run my hands over my huge belly and it gives me a chill to think that at any moment a child would be born from me.

I feel a little young compared to my old expectations about my future. However, if I consider how much I have matured to survive these past years, giving love to such a helpless being can't be that difficult.

"And Anthony?" He reminds me of my biggest obstacle.

" He has let himself be blinded by power. He will never know when to stop."

" He's coming for you, Francisca. Wherever you go! You're his queen, he knows business won't be the same without you!", She states the obvious that everyone knows, including Anthony himself.

It's all about business, not love. And the only one I feel will be able to give me, has just kicked my belly.

It will be for you, my son.

" So the best thing is to eliminate all traces that he might have to follow me", My tone becomes harsh, coated with threat.

" What do you mean, ma'am?"

"That I will start with you, traitor! ", I take the gun from my jacket pocket and fire a shot into his chest. Your body goes to the ground with your eyes still giving signs of life and your mouth tries to mutter something.

" Save your words for the final judgment that awaits you. You ridiculous spy!", I face the dying woman ceasing her last breaths.

Meanwhile, the noise causes the two security guards to open the door to the room. They are my next targets with two sharp shots to their heads and two more bodies go down. A quicker death this time.

I don't have much time. I grab my small suitcase ready with the most essential things, the corridors are huge, but I grew up in this mansion. I know the secret passages that my innocence believed were for playing hide, hide. And that my father would never be the men who kill and gather groups of men either out of fear or out of fragile loyalty.

In front of my eyes the illusion of my still child sister Lorena is running, encouraging me to keep looking for her towards the exit that would lead to the entrance of the vineyards. The rain-scented air is the first sign of my freedom, which is threatened by the other men to the left. The only way is through the vineyards, an extravagant physical effort for my limited condition. However, there is no choice. I follow the course like a leaf being blown away by the autumn wind. There are many drops of sweat on my face, but they are no match for the liquid leaking from between my legs.

My son is coming!

" Calm down baby, it won't be long now!"

Amelia's car is at the appointed point. And I rehearse a few steps slower while trying to signal her to see me from the rear-view mirror. And it works, because the car door suddenly opens and she runs to meet me.

" Francisca!", She offers her shoulder for me to lean on.

" My son is going to be born! ", Is a mixture of joy and fear. Nothing guarantees that at any moment the men will realize that I have escaped, " Let's get out of here, please!"

" Come, I already have a midwife waiting for us", She tries to calm me down although the being inside me doesn't accept delays.

We get in the car and everything is left behind, in the past.

However, he never leaves us. He just arranges a new face to present himself as the present and settles the score using the future that is never the one we dream of....

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

" Go ahead! ", Shouts the midwife.

But it's so hard. It's as if the bones break and wish they would come out along with the baby.

" There's only a few more to go! Push!", She shouts again.

There is no hand for me to grab, Amelia remains distant, staring at me with a look I can't decipher. My vision is so blurred that everything is slowly getting darker.

" Don't close your eyes, madam, please!", She implores.

However, it is a request that does not depend on my willpower. But I surrender all the strength that may exist within me and have the feeling of hearing a cry until everything goes dark.

✧♛✧

One hour later

" Amelia? Where am I?", Both my vision and my memories are slowly coming back. "My son, where is my son?"

" It was a girl!", She answers.

" Was it?", I remain confused.

" Oui, someone took the girl! I wasn't there and the lady was beaten. Poor thing!"

"I'm going to look for my daughter!", I want to get up, but my legs won't obey me.

" No, Francisca, you need to rest. You'll never find her in this state", She stops me.

" It can only be Anthony! He found out that I was going to run away before and not in a week like I made that slut believe", I start putting the pieces together.

" I don't doubt it's him either, but you can't fight him alone. You need to be on the same level. Let's continue with our partner, create a new business that is ours alone. I have the contacts and you have your experience. You promised to help me and I did my part. It wasn't my fault it went wrong."

"I know...", I wipe my tears. " Where are the documents?

She opens her purse and takes out a passport.

"Chloé?", I read the name on the document.

"French name!", She comments.

" I like it ... " Also, it's not like I have any other option, " So I will be Chloé, your new partner, and together we will build the biggest barracks Paris has ever seen ..."

I always believed that walking through the streets of Paris was a kind of undeniable magic for the hearts most hardened by past hurts and that at each step a look would cross with yours, reminding you of the best feelings that could exist in your memories, no matter how distant they might be, they would still be reborn, then make you believe in a new beginning of happiness. However, I keep walking for more than two hours and everyone is hurrying and locked in their worlds. I am the only one looking out, because looking in means that it has been almost a year since she was taken from me.

And not even the light of the Eiffel Tower with all its splendor can give me back the hope that everyone says they feel when they see it shining. It may be that my heart doesn't know how to contemplate so much peace, barred by my blood, where the legacy of anger, power, and revenge runs...

" A coffee, s'il vous plaît!", I ask, finding in a small terrace the perfect place for a rest. And from the expression of naturalness with which she fulfills my request, I can smile satisfied with my accomplished pronunciation.

The last few months have been dedicated to perfecting the language. Staying dependent on Amelia is not an option. There will be no progress on my daughter's clues, not until I give her the power she so desperately desires.

Poor thing, should I warn her that death is the price to pay?

"No... Let it be a surprise from your dear Chloé..." I joke to myself, still looking at the fake document she had arranged for me. But soon my thoughts give way to more serious questions," What would you like to wear, Chloé? Or be?", I drum my fingers on the table impatiently as well as my mind, and before long my eyes meet a group of young people, in which the oldest would probably be 23 years old.

The coffee arrives, but there is no time to drink it.

" Merci!"

I leave a note on the table and follow their tracks. They are distracted enough not to touch the sound of my heel. They laugh loudly and smoke, accompanied by vulgar conversation that in my eyes is the key to the forbidden door that finally opens from my gilded cage. The best private teachers, the best trips, the best clothes were nothing more than an investment to build a caricature of me that would one day serve business, that would always manage to bend the most stubborn of men, but that would be easily lost in a conversation among their peers, because I was denied the freedom to sit on a bench in a square on any given day among friends, without the fear of an enemy bullet being my next companion.

The shopping mall is our arrival point, and it is not long before the boys feel lost from the girls, who move quickly through the shop windows, forcing them to give up this race and opt for a more attractive distraction while they go shopping. I feel old when I see the chosen store. Although we are the same age, I would never in my dreams imagine myself wearing T-shirts with prints about movies and series that I don't have time to watch or sneakers that would be more comfortable for walking and running. Not that it was necessary, there were always cars at my disposal and my steps are naturally calm, even to deliver death to enemies. However, that was Francisca. Chloé would grow up from scratch and along with it a chance to experience everything that had been denied me until now...

" Do you want anything?"

"I'll take these pieces here and those shoes there and anything else they decide to take. It is for a younger sister, but I don't understand much about this fashion", I comment with a gentle smile that an old lady would sketch after criticizing the new times.

" I see, high fashion Italy, right?", She murmurs after her eyes analyze my clothes and shoes.

I cross my arms instinctively, as if this could hide my identity. If I once doubted that clothes could tell so much about who we are, right now I am completely sure.

"I worked in a haute couture store before I came to work here. It's quite famous, it's called Ar..."

I interrupted her.

" Pardon! Would you mind fixing them for me? I'm in a bit of a hurry...", My "compasses" have already slipped out of the store and I can't lose sight of my imaginary friends.

She nodded, and her agile movements in putting away each item and shoe with perfection actually confirmed her version of having had a better fate as a saleswoman.

What would she have been up to?

Neither is relevant to me at this point, although a feeling flickers in my heart that what she would say next would be something familiar to me.

The next destination was a beauty salon, decided by them in conjunction with the justification that having an updated haircut is just as important as wearing the latest thing photographed on a pop star's body.

Almost all of them chose lights and radical hairstyles that would be perfect for Chloé if I still didn't need at certain times to frequent environments where discretion is the watchword. So I opted to continue with my medium and dark strands, although the hairdresser suggested giving a touch of autumn brown as well as my eyes to some locks. But I denied it. The dark matched the wavy hair, which in turn matched in perfect harmony with my chocolate sculpted skin and my slightly pink lips. And after a flat iron, I tied it all up into a clumsy bun, purposely leaving a few strands loose to give me a young girl's fucked-up look.

My playtime has come to an end and I say goodbye in silence to my "helpers" who continue their gossip without realizing who enters or leaves the space, much less that they have been followed all this time. And at this point I understand why being a Calderone I would never be an ordinary woman....

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

"Francisca? I thought I got the wrong room...", Amelia's voice couldn't hide her surprise when she saw me in a t-shirt and jeans, lying on the bed, eating brigadeiro while watching a series on TV.

" Do you like it?", I tease her, silently hoping that my new look would be enough of a reason for her to have a little instability about the fragile certainty that I am not her hostage as I appear to be all these months.

" I confess I am surprised...", She closes the door and places the key card I gave her on the sideboard in the entryway.

Her arms are crossed in front of her body and her clear eyes intensify like two torches of fire ready to burn me.

"I know you've spent a long time in that hotel room, with no news of your daughter, and I can't imagine how frustrating it can be. But, it was the best thing to do until everything calmed down and it was safe to carry on with our plans...

I start laughing at the " safe" and it takes me a few seconds to pull myself together.

" Amelia, Amelia...", I get up from the bed to face her better and as it started to be usual, her blond strands are perfectly aligned, possibly after having gone through one of the best salons in Paris, almost turning her into a decorative element of this luxury hotel room where gold tones predominate, " In this business, nothing is safe. That time was just for me to manage my emotions and prepare myself for my new role"

" Just try not to take him too seriously. I need Francisca for business...", She warns.

" Do you speak from experience?",I let my suspicions slip.

" What do you mean?", She pretends not to know what it's about.

I reach into a bag hidden behind an armchair and reveal a wine-colored satin dress. Although the fabric doesn't have the same fall of silk because it is a replica bought in a cheap store, it still has a lighter, slip and subtle sheen.

" That was exactly the dress you were wearing the night I met you. It's very funny, because during all those months, you started to wear better clothes. Either you have more money than you pretend not to have in order to exploit me and thus get more and more; or, you have made some very interesting friends after your arrival in Sicily and your return to Paris"

"Neither one thing, nor the other! ", She undoes the knot in her arms and goes to the mini bar in search of something to drink, avoiding me to stare at her.

"Do you remember the night we met? Your husband knew that I am one of the biggest event planners in Paris. However, I also know that he, like other businessmen, invites me to work hoping to get information about competitors or enemies. So, I tried to look as simple as I could to be credible to my naivety about what he might try to get out of me...", She pauses, I am unsure if it is to pour herself a whiskey or to better elaborate her next excuse, "And as for my new dresses, I am dating a businessman and I am trying to impress him. He is a bit of a perfectionist... But any questions?"

" No, enjoy your drink, dear Amelia. I'm going to the bathroom", I leave the dress on the bed and turn to my left, still feeling the weight of his gaze on my back until my silhouette disappears. I pass through the endless corridors destined to store clothes, shoes and accessories. While for me, it is only a necessary and strategic space for me to gain time to run, hide, or shoot. However, in this moment it serves to distract me and give voice to my intuition. Something tells me she is lying and my memories about the night we met also align with this idea....

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

Sicily, Italy, two years ago

Families always gather around the table. Even the most unusual ones like ours was. Mafia elements connected not by blood ties, but by loyalty and deep down by a deep desire to be the masters of destiny. However, that night, we would have a guest and for some reason, I should be the last to know...

" Who is this woman you invited to dinner?", My eyes follow Anthony's reflection in the mirror as I put on the last touches of my make-up.

" I can never hide anything from you, not even a surprise..."

,what was meant to be a friendly excuse, comes out of his mouth with a slight hint of wounded pride.

Anthony was nothing more than a son of one of our winemakers who saw his luck turn when his father passed away and mine saw fit to embrace him to teach him the trades of the business. Like most, he managed to keep a low profile, maintaining the rule of silence as he busied himself with ordinary work, keeping suspicion away from our real roles in our peaceful region.

Having been at my father's side for years gave him enough credit to be elected to the position of Head of the family by the vote of all the members. However, it never seemed to be enough, awakening in me the vague impression that, his need for self-affirmation would still make him take decisions that would forever break our fragile peace...

" A man of honor has an obligation to tell the truth, that's the rule, Anthony", His eyes were locked by mine through the mirror for a few moments.

"You are right, madonna..." A very peaceful answer to my expectations. However, when I saw him get up and walk over to me, the certainty of a turnaround became closer.

" But I learned from your father that rules are made to be broken. For example...", He pretended to think as his hands reached for my shoulders and rubbed against my skin as if it were a crystal ball that would reveal the answers he so desired, then continued:

" When his sister ran away and he didn't move enough to repair the enormous damage it was to his honor. Or, when he never touched the names of the great enemies of the past and just when he was about to die, he whispered: Paris, Paris..."

I swallowed dryly although I disguised it with a sympathetic smile drawn in my reflection.

My daddy didn't lie when he swore he didn't know where my sister Lorena had run off to. It's not that there were no means to find out, but doing so would mean having to deal probably with the fact that a family member had chosen a form of justice so different from ours. And that would not only remove my father from his position as head but from the organization as well.

" So madonna, learn that men of honor may not tell the truth when they are in conflict with each other, when they want to cheat, or when their bosses wish to keep some secret...", He finished with a sarcastic smile and anyone could assume that his words were just some kind of joke.

The truth is that he couldn't compare my family's losses with his desire to ride roughshod over the group's own welfare just to prove himself worthy of the position he holds. He didn't understand that, it was extremely abiding by the rules that would make him admirable and only in extreme cases would one understand a breach. However, vanity is a weakness that haunts even the best of men.

Luckily, I was the only one to witness my Papa's last wish. It would be madness to risk the safety of the organization only to kill a man surrounded by spotlights that would likely turn on us.

"Are you going to fuck her to get what you wish for?", escaped my mouth intentionally like a surprise sting from a bee, which caused his large hands calloused by the years of hard work of his youth to suddenly pull away from my delicate skin, grasping his black strands that refused to line up even with gel. Thick strands that matched perfectly with his beard and his eyes as dark as two buttons on any jacket. He was an attractive and handsome man, however, he would not be my choice if I had the right one.

" I would never betray the person with whom I share my bed, Francisca...", he gives his word.

" You just said that honor doesn't matter...", I turn my body so that my eyes confront his with no optical illusions between us.

" Everything I do is to have your admiration, your love...", He justifies himself.

Love, the second weakness, gentlemen, perhaps the most dangerous.

" Loyalty is enough for us, Anthony! We have a deal, it's all business, sex and a marriage of convenience"

" Don't you like me?", He takes a step towards me and I know that this is the moment I should disappear. His sentimentality in control can be more devastating than his self-centeredness.

" Understand that even I don't like what I have become. I wait for you in the living room with the guests", I confess coldly, then walk away.

I closed the door, passed through the corridors, and as I descended the main staircase, I found the enormous room filled with men, some with company and others not so much. I didn't expect my dress with a beautiful V-neckline to elicit a glance or a sigh. Because the wives of allies should not even be looked at, nor should their daughters and sisters. So it was the only single woman of the evening who stole the scene, whether it was curiosity about her identity or her beauty and attributes perfectly fitted by a more economical dress compared to mine.

" Amelia, that's her name...", whispered Luigi discreetly as he handed me a glass of wine. - She is a famous organizer of events in the Parisian elite.

Anthony is not an idiot. He knew that to belong to my father's circle, whether for loyalty or enmity, power and influence were strong leads to follow. And I couldn't bear to imagine the moment he would discover the real reason that fueled the rivalry between the Arnaults and the Calderones.

He would be overcome by madness...

" Pleasure, Amelia!", she came forward and I didn't even notice her approach. My thoughts stole my attention for a few severe seconds.

" Pleasure, Francisca!", I motioned to the waiter to bring her a glass as well.

Her gaze was lost. I wouldn't risk saying that she knew anything concrete about everyone at the dinner. But, I didn't underestimate her, after all, if Anthony saw a way in her, I should do the same. Whether it was a good or bad bet, only in time would I come to find out....

Paris, present

My cab stops in front of the main facade of a luxurious mansion very well guarded by a considerable number of guards and dogs that are on the alert at the slightest sign of smell or unknown movement.

I don't dare get out of the car or approach it as the guests who are arriving endlessly do. At least the night would pay off and it wouldn't be long before I found out what would make me profit from the Parisian Elite. Because, deep down, the Mafia is nothing but business seasoned with a little fire and blood.

But for now, all I could do was wait for my "signal" to enter the field. And he appeared in a beautiful emerald silk dress and shoes of the purest leather. Amelia manages to surprise more and more in her looks, possibly gifts from the man she claims to have an affair with. And if she could make him fall hopelessly in love with her, this man could easily buy the whole of Paris for Amelia. So why does she still prefer hidden ways to get more money?

I know that her personal life is a trivial detail next to the mission that awaits me, but my intuition keeps flashing for some reason that my mind intends to unravel...

" Pardon the delay!", She said as she sat comfortably on the bench beside me. And it wasn't even that long compared to the time she spent trying to find a way not to wrinkle her expensive fabric.

" All right, where are we?", I ignored the formalities and moved on to the action, not waiting for her to answer what my GPS could tell me.

"The residence of one of the most prestigious lawyers in Paris, Jean Laurent."

" Laurent?", I was taken aback.

"Yes, residence of the Laurent family that was inherited by Jean Laurent. They were always a family of lawyers dedicated to business, however, with the murder of his parents, Jean followed the criminalistics area. He was not very lucky, his fiancée was also killed probably by revenge of some criminal he helped put in jail. Since then, he lives alone and relies on the company of a few friends and this information became forbidden subjects until it was forgotten...", She explained.

"I understand..." I mumbled.

"Laurent"

That last name echoed through my mind like a memory whispered by a memory from a distant past. Isn't it possible that life was made of so many coincidences and that these were the Laurents that my papa

"Francisca? ", Amelia calls out.

"Yes?", I put my feet back on the ground.

"We can't be seen together, so I don't need to tell you that you'll have to do your own thing to get in. I can't commit, not at this moment. See you later, darling!", She hustled me out of the car and didn't even look back.

Another time, I would tell her to go fuck herself. Bringing me here and not moving a single stone was the same as me being alone in this battle. However, it's no longer just about our deal or enjoying my prospective clients, but also finding out if this Laurent was the same one I saw delivered to his death years ago...

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

Sicily, ten years ago

Cuban cigars and the best wine in the cellar were clear warnings that my father would receive important visitors and not the usual ones that Lorena and I nicknamed house real estate, one of our numerous jokes that over time were forgotten. Having lost our mother so prematurely brought us together, but for the same reason, distance was gaining more and more ground. She was five years older, although my long legs gave me some advantage and I easily appeared to be only three years younger. Two friends, the sober strangers commented. And to the drunks, almost twins. The truth is that we looked nothing alike. I inherited my mother's looks who was Colombian, while her genetics preferred a peachy shade, eyes and dark brown hair from my Italian father. The only thing in common were our birthmarks drawn on our backs, which we cultivated the dream of being the only ones in the world to have them.

" Daddy is getting some special guests!", I confided enthusiastically.

I couldn't bear to see the same faces, and who knows, maybe there would be a boy we could meet and be friends with. For me, adolescence was knocking on the door and with it, an immense desire to explore beyond our immense property. On the other hand, I dreaded it, because, when she came to Lorena, something magical from our world was lost. There was almost always no time left for us to venture down the secret corridors and passages. She lived with our father in the office or with his trusted men for jobs she preferred to keep secret. Her expression became hard and it took a lot of makeup to bring some life to what was slowly dying inside her.

" I know...", was my sister's only comment, then the maid came in wearing a new dress.

" Are we having a party?", I wanted to know in all my innocence.

But the two ignored me and the maid quickly concentrated on tidying her unruly hair.

" If he's handsome like his father, it won't be a sacrifice to meet him", commented Anitta, the maid, wanting to stand up to Lorena's unwillingness.

He?

"That man was here, years ago, with his wife, but never brought his son", Anitta insists on the dialogue.

Who were they talking about? Without more details it was impossible for me to guess. It was obvious that I didn't belong in this conversation and that I should leave. So I did, but curiosity spoke louder and my ears stuck to the door ready to hear what they were saying.

"This doesn't make sense, Anita", finally protested Lorena.

" Your father promised your mother to make good marriages for you. And the Arnault family is your father's ally, so if you marry their heir, you won't just be partners, but a family. I don't need to tell you how important this is..."

Marriage?

My eyes widened and I needed the help of my hand to close my mouth.

" Is he old?", Lorena wanted to know.

" No, he's about your age, or maybe two years older.", Replied the maid.

" He must have dreams like me... ",After her protest, came my sister's lament.

" It's nonsense, young lady. You have goals and business!", Corrected Anitta with her usual firmness.

There was a silence and I ran with the fear of being caught listening to the conversation. However, I was overcome by the idea of being able to hide behind one of the long curtains in the office to find out more. Little did I know, however, that it would be my turn to be kicked out of my own paradise....

✧♛✧

My body was curled up between the long, heavy drapes that stood firm against the sun and sea air, keeping the wooden furnishings spared from possible wear and tear. If they could talk, they would tell the worst stories and the best secrets that had followed my family for generations. They were my father's best witnesses and companions, always offering silence and never judging, no matter how barbaric his actions were.

The guests were the first to arrive. A blond, blue-eyed man accompanied by a brunette. If they were the same age, I couldn't tell. The first had the serene air and the charm of a papa, while the other was as serious as a door. The blond was the head of the Arnault family and a long-time friend of mine. In my view, he was not a convicted mobster, just a man who lost his way in gambling and found himself mired in a sea of debts. My father helped pay them off and save his family's company, and with that, Mr. Arnault owed him favors, which was the same as him selling his soul to the devil. The brunette was just his escort, a lawman. A terrible choice to bring into a home where you are a crime lover.

" I have no words to express how grateful I am that you have come, Laurent", Said Mr. Arnault.

Laurent, I tried to imitate the accent. In our business world, men address each other using only their last name and it is important to say it firmly.

" I still don't think it's a good idea. These kinds of people are unpredictable. What were you thinking?, Scolded Mr. Laurent.

" I was too young to measure the consequences of my actions. It seemed like the last way out. I didn't expect to one day build a family, have children! And much less be haunted by the fear of losing everyone."

" I know! But do you know how word and honor work for that man?"

Mr. Arnault didn't have the courage to say a single word, and Mr. Laurent understood that the two of them were in the lion's den.

" Mondieu...", was all Mr. Laurent managed to pronounce.

" Adam, my son, would never accept. He is better than me when it comes to character. He doesn't lose his way easily, he has determination and a knack for business. The company will probably grow in his hands. I sent him to study with Jean exactly so he wouldn't be here.

" You are a mobster, my friend", Concluded Mr. Laurent.

Poor Laurent, he would see what a real one was.

" If facilitating a mobster makes me one, yes, I am, and I don't want that for Adam! I don't want that alliance!"

"What don't you want?"

My father arrived and the two men were taken by surprise. They were invited to sit down and Anitta appeared to serve them. Then she withdrew as lightly as she entered.

" Scusa, I didn't give you the proper condolences on the passing of Madame Arnault. Family is an important thing, certainly our greatest wealth. We can take everything from a man, but perhaps it is the family that hurts the most. "

Daddy never got over the death of my mother, even after so many years. He was an indestructible man, yet his Achilles heel was us, his family. My mother was the first to reap the bitter fruits of power, so Dad built around us a fortress, mostly suffocating.

" The flowers and wines were well received, my friend. I thank you"

Everyone nodded and took a sip of their drinks.

" Where is your son, Arnault? Has he not come?, My father wanted to know.

The two men looked at each other, and Mr. Arnault's lips twitched, trying to find the right words. And my father, in turn, settled more comfortably into his leather armchair, fully certain that whatever he was going to say, everything had to come out according to his will.

"That's what I'd like to talk about...", He took another sip of his drink, and Mr. Laurent slapped him on the back, in a gesture of courage.

"My son, he won't do it. He can barely see blood. Getting married and being a future mob leader next to your first daughter is out of the question"

"Nothing he can't learn. He has your blood and you are no Saint, Arnault"

My father's reassurance, to me, was frightening.

" I know, but I promised my wife that I would be a better man. I can pay all my debts in cash, including this one"

My father smiled and finished his drink in one gulp. Then I knew it was his moment to confess something important.

" Money cannot pay the word of a man of honor. I also promised my wife to marry my daughters to men from good families and build strong alliances that would ensure their safety. Why should your promise be more important than mine, my friend?"

" It's not that it is, Calderone. It's just that it doesn't make sense to involve our children in a deal we made so young..."

" He's right, Papa! "

It's Lorena's turn to come in and if there was any calm in my father, it has begun to evaporate.

" I don't want to marry his son. I want to join the army!"

Two pieces of information very hard to digest for a man who can't take no for an answer. And to make matters worse, Luigi, a secretly trusted man of my father's, was coming after. Although he was, there was still a witness to his dishonor, an evil that should be nipped in the bud.

With a simple glance from my father, he drew his gun and pointed it at Lorena. And for the first time, I understood how our real world worked and that all my memories were nothing but a fairy tale that she and I had created to hide from the monster of truth.

" S'il vous plaît! Let's finish this like gentlemen", Mr. Laurent tried to lessen the tension between everyone. But, our sense of gentleman was certainly different from yours.

" This man makes you unworthy of his son and you agree?"

" That man is only being fair, Papa. Why is it so hard for you to do the same?", Tears were already streaming down my sister's face and I was completely scared as much as she was.

"Because my word is only one and I will not break it when I have given it for the only person who has ever loved me in my life", Shouted my father.

" She's gone, you have us. Don't hurt the last people who love you, Daddy "

My eyes filled with tears, but not our father's. Honor tended to weigh more heavily than love, and I needed to do something.

"Daddy, I'll marry him!", I threw myself in the middle of the room to everyone's astonishment. However, it didn't take long for everyone to ignore the presence of the twelve year old teenager that I was.

" You don't want to get married, fine. Prove that you are a Calderone, kill those men who have made a mockery of your family. Then I will give you your freedom, you will leave my house and never come back"

He placed a gun on the table and I confess that if fear had a smell, it would beat the wood of the office. Instead, fear froze Mr. Arnault and Laurent, turning them into two targets to shoot.

"What if I don't shoot?", Asked the still trembling Lorraine.

And no words were needed, just the clicking sound of the gun in Luigi's hands pointed at her head was enough.

"Shoot, Lorena Tatiane Calderone!", Ordered my father. Because the second option would be painful for him.

Lorena stepped forward and grabbed the gun. She blinked a few times, however, there was nothing to be done. Her aim was perfect and it took no more than two shots, each bullet intended for one of the men. I watched their bodies fall and there was nothing in the world that could undo that scene in my mind.

" Well done," My father praised without any emotion, "Luigi, make sure Mister Laurent hasn't come with his wife. If so, finish the job. It's not a good option to leave clues"

He agreed and left the office like lightning. Lorena was next and my father didn't try to stop her. He had given his word. And no one had to say out loud that everything that happened in that room would forever be a secret.

"Francisca!", My father called out and I shivered.

"From now on, I can only count on you. I don't expect you to be ready, I expect you to always know how to get around obstacles, like now"

I didn't quite know what those words meant, but I accepted them for myself with the devotion of a cub abandoned in the middle of the jungle.

" Yes, Papa..."