New Inception

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

-Let's get back to our business.

-What do you want? I spat. Even ifI know what he wants.

-I want to attract your father here; I have something to settle with your dear fat-

I cut him because I have to be honest with him, the fact that he thinks that my father will come to me makes me laugh. My father is like "figure it out", he would never come here and especially for me.

-If I may be so bold, you are wrong. I laugh. The three of them look at me questioningly. The fact that you think that my father will come here is completely wrong, you don't know him, old man. Moreover, he isn't stupid like you seem. He will not fall in your trap.

He comes close to me, with a mad face.

-Do you really think you're funny Ashford? He keeps talking. This isn't a trap, I'm only using you.

My face closes at the hearing of this name. I hate this name from the deep inside.

-I have a first name, you know this?

I don't have time to breathe one time, his hand takes my jaw and his face is barely 20cm from mine. I look straight in his eyes.

-I am not here to laugh; I have something to settle and a kid won't stop me from doing what I have to do. Much less if it's an Ashford. I know your father would do anything for his family so he will do something and won't let you here.

Let me where? We are in a fucking private plane.

-You have one point...

I smile and continue my sentence.

-My father would do anything for his family. But you lose this point, I'm not a part of his family; I'm only a part of his family tree. If you know him so well like you pretend, why don't you know this?

He moves back.

The same way as my genitor, I don't like it. Every time he moved back this way, it didn't bode well.

I feel stress slowly coming, even if I know that I risk nothing from him. My body is getting paralyzed, my breath speeds up and becomes irregular. No, no and no; it's really not the good time to have an anxiety attack Alexya. My hands become clammy and I feel cold sweat all over my back.

FLASHBACK: May 2009, Los Angeles.

-You are weak, Alexya. The mafia doesn't need weak people.

I cry, with this gun between my hands.

-Crying is showing your weaknesses, do you understand this?

I nod, even if I don't care, I need to cry. The smell of blood disgusts me and the worst is that this is fresh blood. The splashes of blood everywhere on the walls and the floor make me want to puke my guts out. I hate this part of my house.

I saw my father torturing him earlier, he forced me to watch "to learn" and I have to execute him now. Me, an 8 years old girl; executing a man I don't know.

-Do you understand?

-Y...yes... I said stammering.

-Then kill him...NOW. He screams at me, getting closer.

Don't scream, please.

I jump, too scared to move a finger. I want to throw the gun and run away and never have to see him again. But it's impossible, it's locked everywhere and he would find me. Knowing my crazy father, I'm sure I have a tracker somewhere on me or in me.