𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡 | 𝟏𝟖+

Past

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.