❅ Chapter Twenty-Three ❅

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Meanwhile, Vincent was at the La Santé Prison, waiting to talk to his father. Rolando had pulled some strings with the help of Stella for him to be able to speak with his father. They were quite reluctant to even let speak with his father, but they eventually allowed it and to Vincent's surprise allowed him much sooner than he figured they would. They wanted to wait until the following month, but here he was.

His heart pounded against his rib cage as if it would break through and bound across the room. His palms were sweaty and he kept wiping them on his pants, even though it was freezing. Maybe it was a mistake coming here, second thoughts and that knot in his stomach were getting tighter by the moment.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. He needed to relax, not stress out, or else he felt like he was going to lose his breakfast. That was something he did not want to do. "Oh, why did I think I could do this? What am I going to say to him? He abandoned me as a child, I remember nothing about him. Not what he looks like. Not what he talks like. Nothing about him." He ran his hands through his hair.

He paused for a moment and groaned, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. "I am here to understand why he left my mother all alone with me." It was a huge thing to ask. He wasn't even sure he was going to get an answer. It may have been foolish to even come here. It was too late to turn back now when he was at this far. He needed to at least hear his father out.

He folded his arms and rested them on the table, burying his head into them letting out a huff of air. "Look at me, I am turning all sappy and a part of me hates it but the other half likes it. This is why I always keep those feelings buried away because I don't like the feeling." He mumbled to himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

He was letting his mind run wild since it was slightly helping out his nerves about seeing his father. He wasn't going to admit it quite yet, but he wished he could have gone down a different path. "Why, why did I choose a life of crime, it had only brought me pain." He sighed gently. Unfortunately, it was too late to think about that. What was done was done. It was in the past now. All he could do was move on.

He facepalmed and shook his head leaning back in the chair. "Get yourself together Vincent and stop all this nonsense. You are being ridiculous. You can do this, this is no different than when you went to prison to visit someone to play the middle man for one of your many bosses." He shuddered at that whole thing.

That was one memory he wanted to lock away, it did not end well for anyone. He chewed on his lip and tapped his foot on the floor. "This is different though because I'm not playing middle man and my life doesn't depend on it. I am talking with my father who abandoned my mother and I." His spoken-out-loud thoughts were interrupted as he looked up towards the hallway.

Brandon was led in by a guard, his messy black hair was like he had just rolled out of bed, his brown eyes looked dull with dark circles under them. He chuckles when he sees Vincent, not knowing who the young man was but surprised to have a visitor. "You know, I don't get many visitors. What brings you here?" He asked, sitting down in the chair opposite Vincent as the guard stood a few feet from him.

Vincent gripped his pant legs with his fists and gritted his teeth and tried to calm down. His nonchalant manner was starting to get to him. He needed to remain calm no matter what and be the bigger person. "You probably don't remember me, you left my mother and I when I was just a small baby." He vaguely told him trying to show he wasn't bothered by it but he was.

This was already a bit awkward for him. Mainly because it did bother him oh so much. He turned out how he did because of not having his parents in the picture. Rolando may have been his guardian, but growing up he was simply a man who was housing him. He didn't trust him nor see him as anything more until he got older, but even then he was the same.

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