𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

51 || The Unlucky One

Song: Beach Weather - sex, drugs, etc (slowed + reverb)

𝔚𝔚𝔚

Flores Duarte Alvarez was what they called an unlucky soul.

Born the only daughter of two hardworking farmers, on a coconut plantation in the northern parts of the Samanà peninsula. Little Flora - would grow up with parents that on a good day, would earn the equivalent of one US dollar in todays day and age.

Poor was an generous understatement.

But that was merely the beginning of the misfortunate tale that was her life.

She was ten when the universe had delivered its first of many gifts - this one a sickness that killed half the plantation, her mother included.

And from then on, the gifts varied. Whether it be older reckless friends at eleven, male attention at twelve, drunken nights at thirteen, black out days at fourteen, or a baby at fifteen.

And by the time she'd turned sixteen, she was alone, tired of using her body in exchange of love or comfort and on the brink of throwing it all away - her baby boy included.

Until she met el gringo.

The older man.

He promised her a better life in America. A life where she'd live free of poverty - a life where the men there would take care of her and her baby.

And like the naive little girl she was, she took his offer and ran.

Only it's not the hardship and deceit she'd been put through when she got to America that makes this tale so unfortunate.

It's what happened to her baby boy.

He made it to America but much like his mother, he was an unlucky soul.

Only his life was doomed from the start, because unlike his mother, his luck- or lack there of - wasn't a concequce of his own actions, it was her actions.

And it could have all been avoided had little Flora never met el gringo because when things got bad and little flora got desperate, he showed up and gave her an offer she couldn't refuse.

The older man.

Arturo Moretto.

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Nico

I was starting to think there was something wrong with me.

My ego was big - not as big as my dick of course- but it was big enough to the point where I had trouble taking orders.

Which I now realise isn't good for my obsessive personality because it makes taking orders to leave my obsession alone - from said obsession, nearly impossible.

It'd been twenty seven hours, thirty seven minutes and fifteen seconds since she'd kicked me out.

This was bad.

Although Nico's world somewhat revolved around her, Rosso's didn't.

I had responsibilities, and arrangements to uphold. Rosso ran an empire, he had associates he dealt with but right now, I couldn't be bothered to care.