Charade Games | Completed

Chapter 31: Drive

A/N: First update after summer! This chapter is a bit shorter than compared to others, its also a bit rougher than what I wanted to be; but, school doesn't give me much time to write so apologies. I hope everyone will still enjoy this chapter, thank you and Happy Reading!

Alden's father died on September 14, 1975

A following year after Elliot's death.

It happened on a day where musky grey painted the sky's surface and splatters of rain soaked the solid ground.
The air clung to your throat with a sensible heat on its surface.

Alden and his father woke early that morning. Dressed in a white attire along with neat dress pants and shoes.

I remember watching them as they left.

Alden following behind his father, his frame cut by his tux--making him appear fuller and taller. The clothes presented him as a young man with a sharp face along with piercing green eyes.

His blonde hair tucked at the nape of his neck with a slight curl at the tip.

His father, appeared quite similarly.

A full cut image with a strong and tough build. He was inches taller than Alden, with a rigid cut face and a stern expression.

The two shared a deep resemblance to each other. But the line of similarity only comes to appearances. Everything else draws to an end.

Not many people in the main house at the time knew where they were headed. At least, those who are deemed not fit to know. 

But among the higher ups, most knew where they were headed. That also included my father that accompanied them.

But I didn't question anything. It's better to not concern yourselves with things you weren't supposed to in the first place.

When they returned, the splatters have rain have turned into a thunderstorm.

Amidst the rain that fell on the stone ground and musky air that lingers at your breath; a boy returns with his hair soaked and eyes aimlessly wandering.

The clothes he wore were now in pieces as the color of red has painted over the white fabric.

A slash fell on his shoulder that eventually left a scar to seal the flesh with its jagged and crooked edges.

No one ever talked about the incident.

Those who don't know, thought he died of a car accident. 

Those who knew, never uttered a word.

And left behind was a boy that has to take upon the task as the New Don at the age of 16.

1987 Milan, Italy

I returned to the black door I left from. The dark color etched on its surface was slowly degrading and the metal knob spliced at the rim.

Rusty hinges and rumbles of dust on the screws.

Holding my head at the hazy sight ahead of me, I kept my thoughts from surfacing on my face.