Veo una muñeca cuando miro en el espejo
Kiss, kiss
ARYA MARTINEZ
The car ride back to the mansion filled me with determination, I could tell this was going to be the beginning of an era.
Running to the entrance I didn't expect to see my dad waiting for me in the living room with a glass of wine on his hands. He was sitting in one of our white leather couches, wearing his usual gold Rolex watch and one of his precious suits.
It was obvious he sensed me because he quickly looked right at me. A smile forming on his face.
Taking the envelope out of my bag I handed it to him. He quickly took it and suspiciously examined every inch of that envelope. After a minute he seemed calm, finally able to take a breath he was holding.
"You didn't open it" It wasn't a question.
"You told me not to, yo sigo ordenes."
He blinked at me approvingly, stood up and left.
He was heading upstairs, probably to his office until he stopped and looked at me. He did a gesture with his hand that made me realized he was asking to accompany him. I reluctantly followed him to his office.
-
I expected to have that conversation with my father, but I didn't think it would've been so soon right after we just had apologized to each other. He must've rethought all of his choices.
On his office he told me I would become his right-hand man until I eventually became don.
That meant I would follow his every footstep. I would know every detail, and action that took place. And by the way my dad worked I would also do things for him. While it was undeniable my dad knew how to defend himself; he never liked getting his hands dirty, he said it wasn't classy. Why would he do it when someone else could do it for him?
And while I wasn't uncomfortable with death, I had been doing smaller jobs throughout my whole life that implied killing. Still doing it in front of my dad made me self-conscious, because he trained me, he taught me how to use a gun, how to correctly hold a dagger, and how to correctly punch someone. I knew he could do it better than me.
We stayed in his office for what it seemed forever, and he gave me a few simple rules:
Never ask more questions than what you are told.
Always follow what I say.
Don't question my orders.
His rules didn't faze me. I already was the best at close combat. My ability with my gun was great. And there is no reason I would question him; our mafia was one of the strongest one for a good reason.
I would have to be every day in his office at 7 am sharp. Not one minute later. He didn't need to tell me that but knowing him I would be in terrible problems if I wasn't on time. One thing about my dad is that he values his time more than anything.
The next day I woke up at 6 am, waking up that early didn't cause any struggle for me, I naturally am an early bird. I don't know if it's the stress or my sense of responsibility, but it seems like my body has an implanted clock that makes me have to wake up at 6am every single day without a failure.
This is great most of the time, but on days where I am not able to sleep properly and end up going to bed at 3am this is more like a burden rather than a blessing.
I quickly made my bed and headed to the shower, the first drops of cold water hitting my hair felt heavenly. I love showering with hot water, but cold water is the best pick me up there is plus it leaves you ready and refreshed for the day.
I did my whole shower routine in 20 minutes.
Getting out of my shower I headed to my closet, standing in front of it my options were easy, I woke up confident. I went for a white turtleneck seeming like the days were still very cold, and paired it with a black short skirt, adding some black boots. I adorned the outfit with gold rings, fitted perfectly for my long and skinny fingers. Also added a gold pendant necklace.
I loved my hair, it was so simple to work with, I always just left it down, I loved the way it slightly cascaded along my curves.
Glancing at the clock in my vanity I realized it was 6:50 when I finished doing my makeup. Just in time.
Thankfully my dad office was in the mansion, he always had said that he felt safer working here a than in any other place.
I raced downstairs and at 6:59 I knocked outside of his office door.
He opened the door at 7:00, leading me with his hand inside his office.
I have always loved his office. When I was younger, I always got in trouble because I snuck in and read the books on his shelves. His office was just the right space to fit his desk, the shelves and two individual sofas with a table between them.
On that same table the space on top of it was occupied by two cups of coffee, probably black coffee, my dad always liked to drink it simple.
I sat on one of those sofas and my dad across from me, taking one of the cups, me mirroring his actions.
"Thank you for being on time."
The praise my dad gave me made me feel amazing, but I hid my feelings and just nodded with a slight smile slightly drawn around the edges of my lips.
"Your first mission will be a hard one, but welcome to don duties" My dad sighs giving me a huge pile of papers that were adorning his desk just a few seconds ago. Flipping through all those papers I see pictures of people and small descriptions just below them.
"I need you to visit London tomorrow" he gets out dryly after taking a sip from his coffee.
I have been to London before, when I was younger. When I didn't know the importance of my father's job, or even knew who I was. I don't have a good recollection of that trip, but I know I went with my mother, London was her favorite place, there is mafia there, but we have never come across trouble with them. London has always been neutral, never trying to get in trouble or helping others in need.
He continues "I am afraid London's mafia and Serbians may have united forces, who know how many people have started to unite with them, it's only a matter of time before they try to throw us down, we are their biggest competition, alongside Italians."
I slowly digest his words; this is a big issue it almost surprises me my dad won't be the one going. But then again, London was my mother's favorite place to visit. I can see why the place may cloud his judgment. He is a strong man, but I can see mismothers death has affected him throughout the years. He has never been the same.
I miss her too, but I have grown comfortable with the fact that my mom is no longer with us. In a way I am glad, she has always been a pacifist, however she loved my dad too much to leave him. I wouldn't want her to see the person who I have become. She would've wanted me to be out of the mafia and live a normal life, she was the person that made me want to pursue medicine.
Before meeting my dad, she was a nurse, she loved her job and was a good at it. She always used to help me heal my wounds when I fell or scratched myself while playing when I was little.
However, she fell over heels with my dad, and he did with her. He never once made her work in the mafia, but she had to quit her job as a nurse to be safe. She was one of the kindest people I have known.
"What do you want me to do when I am there?" I question him.
"I got from an outer source the place that they meet once a week to discuss matters, I don't want anyone to see you. Don't do anything just listen to the information and deliver it to me. I'll know what to do next."
Easy enough.
He smiled, reaching forward to grab my hand his grip tightening." You make me proud every day, my dear. Remember, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
"Of course, papa."
We sat there, father and daughter, sharing a cup of coffee and a moment of connection.
"Can I ask why I can't react? I am quite skilled in defending myself I will be fine; you must know that."
The nice moment we were sharing disappeared as soon as my words came out. His small smile completely faded, his lips now in a thin disapproving line.
"You are dismissed." And with that I leave.
-
I arrived in London the next day at exactly 10:40 am. It was a 7-hour flight. I slept for 6 hours and reviewed plan I had the rest of the time.
I was only staying in London for two days, so I packed a small bag, thankful that I didn't have to waste any more time at the airport.
As soon as I arrived at the hotel, I changed my clothes into something more appropriate. According to the information my dad got they met up at a local cafe at 1:00pm every Monday. So, I needed to be quick, I decided to wear dark sunglasses, black turtleneck, black leather pants and a brown long coat. It was pretty cold in London.
At 12:50 I arrived at the cafe, deciding to get a matcha with oat milk, thankfully bringing a book with me, to blend with the crowd. I sat at the corner of the cafe hopeful to not be noticeable.
The time I was waiting I was able to take a glance at the cafe, I didn't have that much time to take a look at my surroundings, so I was thankful for this chance. The cafe was truly beautiful, the majority of the decor was brown with slight accents of green, thanks to the plants that were decorating it. It was a very peaceful place.
I gave myself a chance to open my book, it was a Romance one. Romance is my favorite genre. Even though I have had a boyfriend in the past, and a few crushes I understood that I never have felt true love, the type that would make you kill, and die for the other person.
My chances of marrying for love were slim, so I was happy to imagine myself in the scenarios the book offered while I couldn't live them myself. It was a price I had to pay, and I had my time to get along with the idea.
Soon enough around 4 men arrived at the same time, they all wore suits, standing out against the rest of the people at the cafe.
I heard them talk, nothing standing out to me. It was just usual inner mafia things and inner jokes alongside them. Until one of them said something that stood out to me.
"I can't believe we are meeting up with Serbians, I hate making truces" One of the men said with a thick accent.
"Where are we even meeting them? It better be a public place."
I can't believe I am getting this information so easily out of them. How can they be so stupid?
They continued to talk for about 15 minutes and left separately.
At the end of the meeting, I had gathered a couple of things:
They were forming a truce with Serbians.
There was a meeting taking place at night today.
The meeting was going to be at a restaurant, in a hidden place in town.
And lastly, I was for sure going.