44. Guns and fights.

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In another part of the city not too far from the Javier's mansion stood a tiny school for kids and a beautiful young teacher filled with life and an unending smile of purity. She had her hair tied in a loosed ponytail and her gown just on top of her knees. Her smile was unwavering as she held unto her niece. Her name was Monica the beautiful wife of Dante, the Mexican police chief.

"So what do you want for lunch Gloria?" Monica asked smiling at the people that walked past her and waving at her fellow teachers. "Hola, buenos días," she greeted in Spanish. It was the only Spanish she knew and she didn't want to forget it. Dante had spent days trying to get her to start learning his language but that was the only thing that stuck. The teachers replied her with a smile, most of them Spanish.

" I want puddling and porridge. " She giggled a huge smile on her face as she looked at her aunt with love.

"You will take your veggies won't you?" Monica asked bending down to adjust her daughters uniforms collar. She adored her her. "Your dad will be so proud of you if you eat your veggies. Don't you want to eat your veggies?"

"No I Don't want veggies. Not Sweet, no veggies." Gloria pouted folding her hands.

"So then you are not a princess." Monica teased "and daddy will not be proud of you."

"I am a princess and daddy is proud of me." Nicolette shouted.

"No you are not. Princesses eat their veggies so you are not a princess cause you Don't want to eat yours and I'll tell daddy."

"I'll eat mine. I am a princess." Gloria smiled hugging her Mum. Monica spun her around as they both giggled. Dante wasn't going to pick them up today as usual so they were going to go all alone. It wasn't much of a big deal though since their house was close by.

Just then three SUVs stopped right in front of them and ten armed men trooped out. "There she is!" one had said pointing at Monica. Monica noticed this on time and held on to her Daughter, she pulled her heels and started running.

The street was crowded with people and as she ran a few feet farther from the men she saw those assigned to protect her but they were out numbered. It was ten against six. Dante had sent them here after she specifically told him that she needed no protection. She would have been angry with him had her life not been in danger, a proof that her husband was right after all.

"Ma'am go behind the building now." Alfredo had Instructed her just as she got to them. He was a friend of Dante and she trusted him. She took hold of Monica and went behind the building were the six men stood, her guardians.

"Are they going to take you away mum. Will they take me too. Will we die? Where is dad? Is he OK?" Nicolette continuously asked crying. Monica had to hush her so she could think. "Shhh. No one is taking you, you are a princess. No one takes princesses. And your dad is fine." She assured Gloria wiping her tears with both her thumb. Her hands were shaking and she found that she couldn't breathe.

She hugged her daughter tight resting her head on her shoulder as a stray tear fell from her eyes. Unlike Gloria she was not a princess and she could be taken. But then wasn't it better she gives herself away than watch others die for her. Does she deserve that to watch people die for her. She couldn't let them get to Gloria, her guts told her that they wanted to harm her little jewelry. Where was Dante? She thought anxiety eating up at her chest.

Monica never thought much of herself not until Dante came to her and made her feel like she was a goddess, that the world revolved around her. He was a loving man and husband and he had given her the best seven years of her life. She had been happy with him, so happy for seven years which was more happiness than she ever thought she could have. When Dante picked her from the street she thought he was going to subject her into a life of submission and pain but instead he loved her and cared for her and her child more than he did himself.

If she died now she knew that she would not only be saving her Daughter but the men outside who may not have experienced the life that she had for seven years. She didn't want to cut short anyone's life especially not for her. After all death would end her constant fear that one day Dante would stop loving her and would take her back to the streets. She was northing like Dante, she wasn't as brave and courageous as he was. Luckily for her, her Daughter took her father's bravery and courage.

She couldn't stop herself from feeling for the men. The men who stood ready to protect her and risk their life in the process had families and children and she knew just how it felt like to loose someone she loved. After all she had lost both her parents at a tender age and she more than anyone knew how bad it was to be an orphan. They were police officers alright but it didn't mean that they should die for an ordinary citizen like her. An orphan who was favoured.

Soon a cross fire began each men taking cover behind the building closest to them. People ran for their lives, mother's carried their children and vendors left their stores.

Soon the street became Empty and the only sound that could be heard were the noises from gunshots.

Two of Javier's men were down, one shot in the leg and the other on his chest, fighting for life. And two of Dantes men were in similar conditions, both hiding behind the building, each helping the other. Monica covered Gloria's ears as the little girl shivered in fear.

"Gloria, princess look at me?" Monica whispered staring down at Gloria whose head was buried on her chest. "Mummy will go now but mummy will come back for you, she will never leave you. I'll be with you always my princess." Monica sobbed quietly holding Nicole. "Stay here. Don't move Gloria, please!" Monica begged leaving Nicole. She took of her jacket and covered Nicole with it. Tears falling from her eyes.

"No!" Don't go! Mother! " Gloria exclaimed holding her back, her thin hands clutching Monica's leg in an embrace too strong for a child like her. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she started hyperventilating.

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