•Hetalia•🌹Who's the father?🌹

1

Like every evening, Ambra Beatrice Gutiérrez entered in the house, collapsing on the sofa. A sofa paid some pesos from a family that was in difficulty, and since she didn't have enough money even for a low-cost sofa, she had no choice but to buy it. As every evening she found himself staring at the worn spots, now infested with cockroaches, of his small living room connected to the kitchen. She didn't know how long it would last, but she didn't do it anymore. She came home at midnight and woke up at four in the morning, just to work and get paid little. And she preferred not to talk about the violence she suffered. But what could she do? She needed a job. All she could do was stare at the musty ceiling of his apartment in Manila, and daydream. She would have to continue her studies to become a nurse like her family wanted, and instead she ran after a boy who dropped her after two years. Just when he decided to fuck with him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a continuous knock and a rather familiar voice, which could swear it was Allen's. What was he doing in Manila ???. She rose slowly from his uncomfortable place and went to open the door, finding himself an American boy with an annoying smirk and ruby-colored eyes. He was a rather robust boy and certainly taller than her. Ne tended to call Amber with annoying nicknames like: Dollface and Doll, nicknames she hated to death, like the boy himself. "What are you doing here in Manila?!?" She almost screamed. It was hard to be indifferent when the guy you hated showed up at your house at midnight. And then she just stared at him with an annoyed look, even trying to close the door in his face, but Allen had managed to put his foot in the slot and open the door with great ease, given Amber's weakness.

"I talked to Flavio and you should work somewhere else." He said, entering Amber's apartment, as if nothing had happened and turning on the lights. In response, Amber grunted, and sat down heavily on the sofa followed by Allen, who, meanwhile, had taken a soft drink from the fridge. "It's not an advice. Do it." He said, suddenly serious, looking intently into her eyes. Maybe she didn't understand or it was hard to believe, but he was worried or he would never call the police. And Flavio was worried too, and perhaps he was the one who cared most about the two, but even if he wasn't, Flavio was the one who controlled her very often. Amber looked at him with a raised eyebrow, probably confused by the sudden seriousness on Allen's part but decided not to pay attention to him and liquidate him. " Have you eaten?" She asked as if nothing had happened, looking at the wooden table in front of her.

Allen wanted to talk seriously, he had come just to let her leave his job and find another. But she was stubborn!. "Answer me. Will you leave your job?" He asked, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and forcing her to look at him, but she tried to avoid eye contact. Perhaps Allen did not understand, but it was difficult to find a job here, and most of the population went away just because there was no work and because living conditions were low. If she would leave that job, when would she find a job ??? If she would find it obviously. "Get out." She said cold, continuing to avoid his gaze. She hated his visits. It turned out that Allen came out of his apartment, rather pissed off and ready to call Flavio, like every time he came to visit her, or rather make her leave work. Amber knew perfectly well what it meant, or whether it was a visit from Flavio.

05 : 30 pm - Monaco (Paris)

François Bonnefoy threw the last cards left in his hand, smiling with satisfaction at his opponent, Luciano Vargas, or the boss of the Italian mafia.  The Frenchman lit a cigarette, still staring at the annoyed look Luciano gave him, he was probably holding back from killing him but he knew that Luciano was too smart to do it.  Also because they were dealing with some things about it.  " Then?"  The Frenchman asked in a hoarse voice as he looked at the Italian.  He was there for weapons, and for a deal involving drug trafficking from Latin America.  Exactly the coca plant from Peru and other types of drugs.  "Then let's finish this shit so I can leave."  The Frenchman couldn't help but smile at the statement.  He was so smart but, wrapped up, impatient.  "How much do you offer?"  The Frenchman asked, suddenly serious.  The Italian smiled slyly placing a black briefcase on the round table "This is my price." The Frenchman opened the briefcase finding himself satisfied.  It was a fair deal.  " I accept."  He said, reaching out to Luciano, who he pressed even though he was not very confident.

"Well Well ~ Would you like a couple of freshly baked cupcakes?"  A cheerful voice, with an unmistakable English accent, intruded on the conversation, placing a freshly baked tray of cupcakes next to the black briefcase.  It could only be Oliver Kirkland.  The Frenchman sighed, putting a hand on his face.  He couldn't just come in with cupcakes and offer them, especially when he was dealing with someone, that someone who was Luciano.  The Italian, on the other hand, growled at English by answering with a "no" rather rude.  "Aww ~ Luci ~ You should be more polite ~" at the statement, the Italian turned on his steps ready to leave the room, without first raising his middle finger upwards.  He had refrained from cutting his throat and tearing off every organ.  And he hated that damn nickname, which his idiot's brother used to call him.  If it hadn't been his brother he would have left him on his head with his organs completely emptied.  But unfortunately they shared the same blood and surname, which meant they were related.

At the exit he found his brother attached to the phone.  He talked to someone, and he could bet it was Allen.  Lately he was worried about Ambra, a girl he had often met in the past, and who was like a younger sister to Flavio.  As always they talked about the same topic, namely his work.  "Hey bastard, move on."  He said going past and entering a black car that would escort them to the airport, where they would take a private jet to Milan.  His brother gave him a look gesturing to wait for him while Luciano sighed in annoyance, resting his head on the seat.  How long would it take this time?  Meanwhile Flavio was giving his last regards, obviously promising that he would come to Manila to talk to Ambra, and see if this time she would leave his job, and get in the car before his younger brother threw him some knife, and then ruining his clothes and probably kill him.

"Ambra and that story again?"  Luciano asked indifferently, as he looked out of the window looking bored.  Meanwhile the car had started and Luciano hoped that François had not put a bomb under the car, another thing that made him nervous, and this increased his stress.  "I know it will end badly. We cannot get their arrested because of their lawyer. If only we reconsider..." Luciano gave him a sharp look.  He already knew what he meant and where he wanted to take the conversation, but he couldn't do such a stupid thing by intervening the mafia.  It was too risky.  " No."  He simply replied, looking back out of the darkened window.  At that moment he wanted to end that conversation and go home to manage documents just sent by the Russian mafia.  And Flavio knew that it was better not to insist, at least for now because he would not give up.

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It is my first story so please excuse me for grammar errors! 😅

Here is the playlist I created for this story that you can listen to on Spotify ⚠️(In three or four days because I'm fixing it).⚠️

⚠️ Photo at the beginning of the chapter. ⚠️