Ep4

Diana pulled up to her mother's house, the evening lights casting a warm glow over the façade. She rang the doorbell, the melodic chime echoing through the interior. The door creaked open, and 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, she drifted off."

Diana's expression softened with regret. "Oh, I hope she's not too upset?"

 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." The acquiescence was tinged with a hint of disappointment, but Diana knew the routine – it was time to go home.

  

~~~~

In the dimly lit basement of the Wall House, somewhere in New York, a painful groan echoed through the cold air as the man in black poured himself a whiskey. 

 The amber liquid gleamed in the faint light, and the sound of footsteps behind him signaled the arrival of his right-hand man, Shadow. "He refused to talk, boss," Shadow informed, his voice devoid of emotion. 

  The man's 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, and fear ignited in his eyes.

  "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, and he signaled to his men. "Release him and place him on the chopping table."

  "Yes, sir," his men replied in unison.

  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," the boss sneered. "If you don't want to die, just say it out loud." The silence that followed was oppressive, punctuated only by Max's ragged breathing. The boss's laughter was low and menacing as he raised the axe.

  "No, I'll tell you anything! Please don't do this...I have a family!" Max's voice was a despairing cry. The boss's smile was a cold, calculated gesture as he lowered the axe.

  "I thought you'd forgotten," he spat. "Now, tell me why you stole my truck."

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

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?" His anger was palpable, radiating outward like a palpable force, making his men shiver.

  "I'm sorry, Mic—"

  The boss's axe sliced through Max's words, ending his life with a swift, merciless stroke. As Max's head rolled away, the boss's voice dripped 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's taken his place," Shadow replied.

  The boss nodded thoughtfully. "And the spy?"

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

  "Good. Let's go then." The boss's voice was a cold, calculated command, and Shadow fell into step beside him, disappearing into the darkness.

*

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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, a stark contrast to her normally bubbly demeanor. Diana had noticed her daughter's quiet behavior at her mom's house, and now, as they drove away, Sonia's silence seemed to grow thicker.

 "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?"

  Sonia's voice remained low, her words tumbling out like a confession.

  "They bullied me...and they called me fatherless." Diana's gaze flickered to Sonia's reflection in the rearview mirror, shock and concern etched on her face before she refocused on the road.

  "And what did you tell them?" Diana asked, her curiosity piqued.

  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?" The question hung in the air, unexpected and raw. 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, her voice laced with a mix of sadness and determination. "He's someone who never cared about you or anything."

  "Is he a bad person?" Sonia asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. Diana pulled up to their apartment building and parked, then turned to Sonia as they stepped out of the car.

  "Your dad has nothing to do with us," Diana said, her words carrying a hint of irritation.. Sonia flinched at her mother's harsh tone, and Diana took a deep breath, softening her expression to calm the fearful girl.