Audrey Del Rosso

2 | Tomorrow's Mission

⌜ Audrey Garcia ⌟

As I was driving back home, my grip onto the steering wheel was tight as fuck to a point my knuckles were practically white. Anger was all I felt, I was furious. I hated Carlos, I hated him so much. He is the reason I have failed almost every mission I was on. He always shows up with his cocky attitude and flirty personality and ruins every thing.

It's like every mission I've been on for the last 2 years is the same like the previous one. I go to my mission, it goes well, Carlos suddenly shows up out of no where, he ruins the whole thing, and leaves. It would be a fucking miracle if he didn't show up unexpected and ruin my missions.

I tried my best to stay calm by taking many deep breaths, and continued to drive home. To distract myself, I decided to think about something else. That's when the though of the AMB popped up in my head. AMB, stands for 'Annual Mafia Ball'. The yearly mafia ball is the one time all the mafia's around the world are out together in one building without killing each other. Its part of the rules, the AMB is a place to celebrate, make alliances, meet other mafia's and do so much more in peace. It's no warzone.

But I know for a fact, every person there is fighting the urge to slice their enemy's head off.

Not gonna lie, I tried killing Carlos last year at the ball. We caused a huge disaster that caused us to get both kicked out. Carlos' dad was in charge and the host of last year's ball, and I found it hilarious when he kicked out his own son. Carlos and I threw everything possible at each other, since we weren't allowed to bring in weapons. Plates were thrown at him, and some woman's heels were thrown at me. The most random shit were thrown.

You name it, we most probably threw it.

As I was driving and distracting myself from the thought of Carlos by thinking if the ball, the loud sound of something popping loudly startled me. I jump from my seat from the sudden sound, as the car stops. The vehicle slowly leaned to its side. I groaned as I got out of the car to see what happened, only to find out that one if my wheels have popped.

"What the fuck!" I said irritatedly, kicking the wheel of the car, "Is this a fucking joke? Just my luck." I turned around and went to grab my phone that was inside the car, beside the driver's seat. I frustratedly kicked the door close and walked away. My house wasn't far away, it's just a two minute walk from where I am currently standing.

Walking back home, I kept cursing under my breath. "Joder este día." I cursed in spanish, my voice low and faint as I practically stomped my way back home. I finally made it to the front gate of the building and I barged my way into the house once I reached the front door. Once I made it inside, I heard my father-Emilio Garcia-speak.

"I'm afraid if you keep roughly opening the front door and aggressively stomping into the house like that, the building will soon collapse." My father's chuckles echoed through the massive empty room.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes, dad." I sighed. "You never are," I wasn't looking at him but I know for a fact he rolled his eyes, "so how did the mission go? Did you get the files?" I tried my best not to burst into anger once again at the mention of the mission, and I walked over to him so I could take a seat behind him. My father looked down at the hole in my dress that was caused by Carlos, then back at me.

"What did he do now?" My father rolled his eyes. "How did you know it was Carlos?" I softly laughed.
"Because I doubt that Mr Williams' fat ass made that cut on your dress." He chuckled, "And, whenever you stomp like an angry 7 year old–like how you just did, it's always whenever you return home from a mission Carlos ruined."

"Why can't that bitch just fucking die!" I let out a long sigh of frustration, as I took a seat beside my father on the couch and took off my long and uncomfortable heels. "I bet he is made of stone." My father joked, and I let out a laugh.

My father has a special place in my heart, I truly love him. My father is 41, and yet he is still as cool as he was in his 20s. He is okay with me doing what I want, unless it comes to crossing boundaries or bending the rules of our mafia–the Spanish Mafia. My father has black hair and and pale blue eyes. He has a few freckles on his nose and a sharp jaw.

I have my father's freckles, the rest were from my mother's genes. I have her silky hazel brown wavy hair, and gray-blue eyes. I also have her dimples, except the only difference was that she had dimples on both cheeks, and I had one only on my left cheek. I also have an upturned nose and I was short, my mother didn't have those genes.

She was a very beautiful woman and when people say I look just like her, it brings joy to me.

I love her.

And I really miss her..

"So," My father's words snapped me out of my thoughts, "Where are the files?"
"Carlos." I scoffed. My father's expression dropped immediately, and he raised an eyebrow. "The files. . are with Carlos?!" He said slowly, as if he was repeating it to himself to make sure he heard right. "Maybe?" I smiled innocently, and slightly tilted my head to the side.

"Audrey Valentina Garcia!" Full name, I'm fucked.

"I know, I know, I fucked up. But it's not my fault he is made of stone, just like you said!" I yelled frustratedly. "That motherfucker won't fucking die, no matter how many times I throw punches to his face."

"Audrey, I understand you hate him but we have more important things to deal with other than the fact he won't die." My father spoke before I could complain further more, "We need the information that was written on the files. There is information on it about their next weapon shipping, and we need to get ahold of their weapons before they do." He explained.

"Unless. . . I don't know," He got up from his seat, "you want Carlos to get ahold of the most powerful weapons." He gave me a look, and a small smile crept on his face. "I see what your doing there Mr Garcia." I got up and crossed my arms, "And. . . I got some small but vital information."

"I couldn't get a picture or memorize a ton of the information. But, apparently there is a shipping at the harbor, south of New York, today at around 8pm for the Italians." I briefly told him all the essential details we need to know for our possibly next mission.

"Perfect." My father got up, "I'll call a meeting with everyone to inform them about this information and plan our mission." He turned to me, "Go change out of that dress and into something comfortable if you would like, and meet me in the meeting room to plan tomorrow's mission." And with that he walked away to go call everyone for a meeting.