My thoughts are interrupted when I hear Shrek grumble as he starts to wake up. As much as I loved our little chit chat, I don't think I want to stick around for another.
Running out of the alleyway, recollection hits me.
What time is it?
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I check the time. 01:15. I have fifteen minutes, if I hurry I can still make it to the shop in time to meet...Lorenzo? I think that's his name? The only reason I'm trusting him is because I'm kind of out of options. Knowing my luck, he is probably some freak who doesn't even know my dad and I'll end up dead in a ditch.
01:28. Ok, I'm nearly there. Finally, I see the off license at the top of the road; all of a sudden, I'm pulled back by my hair then propelled to the floor. Without warning, a boot collides with my already bruised ribs. I inhale sharply when a pain jolts through my body, but quickly becomes numb.
"Miss me cyka?"(bitch)
Oh look it's Shrek.
Before he can get another kick in, I propel my foot to his knee dislocating it. He collapses to the ground, in an attempt to get up, he grabs ahold of my ankle pulling me back down. Unable to catch myself, my face slams into the concrete pavement causing my noise to bleed. Motherfucker! In return, I so kindly kick him in the face.
Take that bitch! You don't mess with Leandra Álvarez!
Out of nowhere he pulls a gun out clicking the safety off as he aims it at my head.
"Готов умереть cyka?"(ready to die bitch)He taunts with blood dripping out of his mouth. It suits him really.
"It's Плохая cyka actually." (bad bitch) I correct him, god how doesn't he know this already. Shock is evident on his face when he realises I speak Russian, but soon changes back to that sinister grin.
*BANG*
Attempting to dodge the projectile, the distinguished firing of a bullet rings through my ears.
I'm not dead?
No fucking shit Sherlock!
Oh shut it whore!
Looking in front of me, Shrek's body goes limp with a bullet wound in his head. Ha, karma's a bitch. Wait. Who fired the bullet? Cautiously turning around, Lorenzo looks back at me with a blank expression on his face.
"I was handling that." I inform him. In response, he rolls his eyes at me. Well fuck you too.
"I can see that. Where is your stuff?"
"I'm not bringing anything." He looks at me as if I'm insane before noticing something and striding towards me with a bitter expression.
Once reaching me, he grips ahold of my face, staring intently at it; stepping away, I glare at him.
"What the fuck happened to your face?" He growls glaring back at me. Excuse me?
"What the fuck happened to your face?" I retort. This mouth of mine is going to get me killed one day. Evidently growing agitated with my smart comments, he clasps onto my wrist dragging me with him.
Fuck me, he's strong.
He shoves me into the front seat of the same black jeep as yesterday, before climbing in on the drivers side and speeding down the road. I take this as my chance to truly analyse him; his light brown eyes in a constant glare, tanned skin with tattoos across his hands and arms (he has probably got more but that is all I can see at the moment), his hair messy but smart at the same time and a tall along with muscular figure.
——————————
For three hours we've been driving. Three fucking hours! All in silence.
"Where are we going?" I ask breaking the silence. He sighs then tightening his hold on the stirring wheel, but not giving me answer.
Excuse you. You do not ignore a bad bitch like me.
"What's my dad like?" I try instead. Abruptly snapping his head to me offering me an irritated glare, I grin back innocently; just to piss him off evermore. Petty. I know.
"You ask a lot of fucking questions!" He snaps.
"I wouldn't have to if you just told me!" I retort rolling my eyes.
"fóllame."(fuck me) He mumbles. Why does everyone think I only speak one language? I will let Shrek off as I am not actually Russian, but Lorenzo the idiota(idiot) should know better.
"Pasaré, gracias."(I'll pass, thanks)His attention averts away from the road and back to me, this time without his usual glare, but a devilish grin instead.
"Don't act like you don't want me enamorado."(sweetheart) The grin only grows. Arrogant bastard.
"You wish. I have standards, enamorado." I mock him in a deep voice.
He stares at me for a second with his grin cemented on his face, but then turns his attention back to the road not saying a word.
——————————
A couple more hours later, we park on what looks like a private runway.
Lea there is a jet here, of course it's a fucking private runway.
Oh Right.
Jumping out of the jeep, I follow Lorenzo to the jet, no security or anything (he merely waltzes onboard). Inside there are black leather seats (some with tables as well as some without), grey carpet, a sufficient amount of windows, grey walls and a light grey sofa.
I gasp at the breath taking sight.
My gawking was interrupted when Lorenzo demanded I sit down so the plane can take off. I know, rude.
Eventually, the pilot decides to take off and fly to Barcelona. Once the plane is up in the air, I attempt to ask Lorenzo about my dad again.
Ok, more like interrogate. But I want answer so I'm going to get answers.
Crossing the aisle, I plant myself on the seat in front of him making my presence known, showing a serious face. Peering over his phone, Lorenzo acknowledges my threatening look which seems to intrigue him.
"Tell me about my father now."There is no room for negotiation, I need to know.
He sighs,"Fine, you seem like you can handle it." pausing for a second to gage my reaction; I nod and he continues, "Santiago Álvarez is the Don of the Spanish mafia.".
Don? Spanish Mafia? Suddenly, the continues training, the increased pain intolerance, the intense upbringing all made sense to me. My mother really was preparing me for my father's lifestyle. I'm not scared that he is the leader of the Spanish mafia, if anything, I'm relieved; yet that doesn't tell me what he is like as a person. As a father .
"But what is he like?" I push, Lorenzo grins again.
"You are a lot like him. Always has an answer for everything, takes no bullshit. Santiago may seem tough, and believe me he can be scary, but he loves you. Ever since your mum disappeared taking you with her, he spent every hour of everyday searching for you." Lorenzo explains. How can he be so sure about me? He has only known me for a couple of hours. I thank him before going back to my previous seat to take a nap, leaving him to do whatever the hell he was doing earlier.
I still have one question.
Why did my mum always refer to my dad as a heartless monster?
That is something I will leave to myself to figure out.
********************
Hope you enjoyed.
Until next time - N
YOU ARE READING
Ángel
RomanceLeandra Álvera, always left in the dark about her real life. About her father. Her mother told her it was for her own good. To protect Lea. But what happens when Lea learns all her mothers lies? Everything she thought to be true gets turned upside...
