Chapter 2 Always have an answer

Diana pulled up to her mother's house, the evening lights casting a warm glow.

Ringing the door bell, it creaked open, her mother, Rita, stood in the doorway, a warm smile spreading across her face.

 "Diana, you're back?" Rita's eyes sparkled with welcome as Diana leaned in to hug her, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

  "Where's Sonia?" Diana asked, her voice tinged with a hint of apology for being late.

  "She's inside, sleeping," Rita replied, her voice soft. "She waited up for you, but when she realized you weren't coming soon, she drifted off."

Diana's expression softened. "Oh, I hope she did trouble you more than she already did?"

 Rita's eyes twinkled with amusement. 

"Shh, she's my granddaughter, a little disturbance isn't a bother." .

Diana smiled, nodding in understanding, and then hurried upstairs to Sonia's room. 

She pushed open the door slowly, not wanting to startle her daughter awake. 

 But Sonia was already stirring, her big brown eyes locking onto Diana's, as she sat down on the edge of the bed. 

Sonia scrambled to her feet, flinging her arms around Diana's neck in a tight hug.

 “I thought you'd be sleeping," Diana said, her voice filled with affection, as she wrapped her arms around Sonia.

Sonia's voice was muffled against her shoulder. "I was, but I heard your voice, and I had to wake up." 

Diana's fingers tenderly stroked Sonia's hair, which cascaded down her shoulders like a rich, dark waterfall.

"Sorry for the delay," Diana whispered. "Mom didn't mean to keep you up." .

Sonia nodded, her face still pressed against Diana's shoulder.

 "Let's head home now, Grandma has work tomorrow morning, and so do I," Diana said gently. 

Sonia remained silent for a moment, her small frame tense, before mumbling a soft 

"Okay."   

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SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK.

WELL HOUSE, 10PM.

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 A painful cry sounded through the air as the man in black poured himself a whiskey. 

Three hours of painful brutality, yet the assassin refused to spill out the information he knew.

The man, seated grip on the glass tightened, his knuckles whitening as he stood up, his eyes fixed on his prey.

A dark smirk spread across his face as he approached the kneeling figure. 

Max's hands were bound behind his back, his face bruised and bloodied, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. 

The boss's men formed a semi-circle around them, their faces impassive. 

 With a swift signal, one of the men brought forth a suitcase, revealing an array of brutal tools.

The boss's eyes scanned the arsenal, his fingers trailing over the instruments before coming to rest on a small axe. Max's gaze followed, he stared at him in fearful eyes.

He had refused to tell him any important information, and since his boys were the one doing the punishment, he was apparently safe, However, staring at the main boss, holding firmly to an axe he most likely going to use on him, he gulped a heavy breath.

 "Max, it's either the easy way or the hard way," the boss murmured, his voice icy. 

Max's lips trembled, but he refused to speak, even in the face of death.

 The boss's expression darkened, "Release him and place him on the chopping table."

 As they dragged Max to the table, he struggled, his voice cracking with desperation.

 "No...no, you can't do this to me!".

 They secured his hands above his head and his legs, immobilizing him.

 "I can do whatever I want, Max," He said rather calmly. "If you don't want to die, just say it out loud." 

There was a long silence, he was penitently waiting for him to speak, anything.

But nothing.

He exhales, rubbing his temples in annoyance. If the message isn't important, he wouldn't be playing nice talking. 

Immediately as he raises the axe…

 "No, I'll tell you anything! Please don't do this...I have a family!". Max snapped almost immediately.

Finally. 

 "I thought you'd forgotten,”. He tricked his tongue to the side, lowering his hand. “Now, tell me why you stole my truck."

 "I was compelled to do it...I needed money." Max's words tumbled out in a sobbing confession.

The boss's expression twisted in disgust.

 "Do you know how much I lost because of your greed? One billion dollars was at stake, and all you got was a paltry two million?" He placed the axe on Max's wound, deliberately roughing it.

Max hissed painfully.

“I know I shouldn't have messed with you, am sorry…”. Max cried out, the axe piercing into his wounds. 

“Why do people always say sorry when they make mistakes? Sometimes I just don't understand how life works”. 

  "I'm sorry, Mic…”.

 The boss's axe sliced through Max's words, ending his life with a merciless stroke as Max's head rolled away, the boss's voice dripping with sarcasm.

 "Don't worry, Max. I promise to take care of your family. Until then, send my greetings to the devil."

  With a curt nod, the boss turned to leave, ordering his men to dispose of the body. 

"Any news from the investigators?" he asked Jacob, who trailed behind him.

  "Alex was removed as leader, and Hunter took his place," Cobra replied.

 The boss nodded thoughtfully. "And the spy?"

  "Waiting for us at the usual location," Cobra answered.

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After bidding Rita farewell, Diana and her daughter Sonia left the house, the evening sun casting a warm glow over the landscape. Sonia's unusual silence caught Diana's attention; she's been off since they left Rita's house.

 "Having a bad day, huh?" Diana asked gently, trying to coax Sonia out of her shell. 

 Sonia's gaze drifted out the closed car window, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "Just some assholes of bullies."

 Diana's eyebrows shot up at the unexpected profanity, and she shot Sonia a warning glance.

 "Language, girl," Diana cautioned, though her tone was softened by a deep breath. "What happened?"

  

 "They bullied me...and they called me fatherless." 

Sonia's voice remained low.

Diana's gaze flickered to Sonia's reflection in the rearview mirror, concern etched on her face before she refocused on the road.

  "And what did you tell them?" Diana asked.

 Sonia's response was laced with a quiet confidence.   

"That a person doesn't need a father to have a name in school or anything.".

 A surge of pride swelled in Diana's chest, her daughter's spirit was unbroken.

 She reached out, gently ruffling Sonia's hair.

  "That was a brilliant response, sweetie," Diana said, her voice filled with warmth.

  Sonia's gaze turned inward, her voice hesitant.. "But who is my father?" .

 Diana's eyes darted to Sonia's face before snapping back to the road, her mind racing to find the right words.

  "He's no one, sweetie," Diana replied with a dedicated smile. "He's someone who never cared about you or anything."

  "Is he a bad person?" Sonia asked. 

Diana pulled up to their apartment building and parked, then turned to Sonia as they stepped out of the car.

“Mo..”

 "Your dad has nothing to do with us," She snapped.