Growing up I've always thought that being the daughter of a drug lord meant that I was safe and protected, that nothing was ever going to happen to me; to our family.
But all that changed five years ago when father's cartel failed to come through with a deal they made with one of the most notorious drug cartel in the country. Father lost half of his men, along with my heavily pregnant mother and my unborn little sister when the Viglianco Cartel attacked. I was devastated, broken. A piece of me died that day. I was only seventeen.
Father didn't care. He was always so business minded. He said mother and my unborn sister were in the way, that they were collateral damage.
"If Luciana had listened and hurried to the safe house, she wouldn't have died with the child." He had said without any remorse whatsoever.
I hated him even more. How could he say something like that about the woman who helped him built his empire? It was as if her work was done and he didn't need her to stick around anymore.
He continued on with work like nothing happened. I get that people die every day under harsh circumstances but the way he moved on that quick broke my heart. I loathed him.
Angelo, my older brother, took it like father did. Father trained him to show zero emotion and weakness and that's exactly what he did. But I couldn't blame him for it. We were all born into this life and father chose him as the next kin in line to take his place.
I wanted out of this. I didn't want be a part of whatever it is father is running, always living in fear for the day when something similar that happened to mother to happen to me. No. I wanted a normal carefree life.
When I turned eighteen I proposed to father about my plans and that I wanted to move out. He despised the idea and shunned me. After couple of weeks, he approached me and gave me the green light.
I moved out to a different city a week later. I needed to leave my past behind and move forward. I even changed my name and took on a new identity.
Four years later and I'm heading back to my apartment from work. It's quite chilly tonight and I shiver, pulling my cardigan and wrapping it tightly around my body. There's not a lot of people or cars on the road. I hate the cold weather.
I rounded a corner and head into an alley, trying to take a shortcut home. I can't help but get a feeling that I am being followed. I stop and turn around but I can't see anything else beyond six feet. It's too dark.
The only source of light came from the few lamps that won't stop flickering. Light couldn't reach certain parts of the alley.
I swallow hard and remind myself that there's only three blocks to walk until I get out on the other side then I can easily cross over and go home.
I turn back around and continue walking down the dark alley with a fast pace. Two more blocks to go, I remind myself again.
A loud thud echoes through the alley, causing me to jump back a little. My heart is pounding loudly in my chest, threatening to break free of my ribcage.
Footsteps echo faintly behind me and I tell myself to keep walking and not show any fear. The footsteps keeps getting closer. A shiver runs down my spine and I'm about to start sprinting when someone grabs me by the arm, pulling me back and into a dark corner. I try yanking my arm free from their grasp but that only makes them tighten their grip around my arm.
I'm about to let out a scream when I feel a sharp pain on the side of my neck. My knees go weak and I fall back, everything going upside down. A pair of hands catches me before I hit the ground.
"Are you sure we got the right girl?" A voice with a thick accent asks.
"Turn her face towards me." Another voice demands, pausing before adding, "Yeah, that's Garcia's kid."
I can't feel my body. I blink, trying to see who the voices belong to but to no avail.
What did you do this time, father? I thought before passing out.