3

Raul's POV

I'm sitting in my office signing papers for the company and looking at a few designs for my next opening club.  Sighing and taking a small sip of the rich alcoholic flavour, I lean my head back on my brown leather chair, trying to ease the headache that's forming.

I suddenly get a call from an unknown number. I usually never answer, but my gut was telling me to, and my gut is always right. So I picked up the phone and answered.

"Hello," I said coldly.

"I-is t-this Mr A-Raul Rodriguez?" The person on the other line stuttered. Since I'm in the mafia, I'm always cold and rude except with my family.

"Yes, now who are you and what do you want?" He's wasting my time. I need to finish work so I can be on time for dinner with my sons.

"Sir, this is Texas Police Station. We have your daughter here; her DNA matched with yours, and she doesn't have a guardian; her stepfather just died. Would you like to take her in? If not, she will be placed in an orphanage." The officer said, making my hand freeze in midair from where I was signing.

What the fuck is he talking about? I don't have a daughter. I mean, I have always wanted a daughter, but I and my ex-wife didn't have one. And I never slept with another woman.

"Listen you have the wrong number. I don't have a daughter," I answered rudely.

I was starting to get annoyed; they can't even dial a number correctly.

"Sir, your ex-wife's name was Vicky Simpson, right?" Asked the officer.

What does that bitch have to do with anything? She could be dead, for all I care. "Yes, why?" I asked, getting really confused. "And she left you and your sons and ran away, right?" By now I was really starting to get mad. What the fuck does he think this is? A guessing game?

"Yes, now spit it out. I'm fucking busy."

"Sir, your wife changed her name, and she was pregnant when she ran away." He replied.

I sat there frozen. No, this can't be possible. She wouldn't just take my child away from me. This is impossible. Fuck, I can't even think clearly. I must have been quiet for too long because the officer spoke again.

"Sir, are you still there?" I cleared my throat and replied, "Yes, I am. Can you send a photo of her and what's her name?" I spoke calmly after taking a few deep breaths. "Yes, sir, I will send a photo, and her name is Jessica Alexandra Thompson." Said the officer.

"So would you like to take her in?" Asked the officer.

"Yes, I will take her in. I will be there in a few hours since I'm coming from New York." I replied, feeling my throat clog up.

"Ok, sir, I will get the papers ready for when you come." I hung up and put my phone on the table.

I couldn't believe this – a daughter, my daughter. I have a daughter. FUCK, that bitch, how could she? How could she keep my daughter away from me, my Principessa, my baby girl? I missed 17 years of her life because of that bitch. I could never forgive myself. I felt something wet on my cheek. I raised my hand and wiped my cheek; I didn't even realise I was crying. I haven't cried in 30 years. I threw my phone across the room in frustration and watched it as it smashed into a thousand pieces. But that wasn't enough

I called my pilot from my other phone after hanging up with the officer.

"Get the jet ready; we're going to Texas," I said as soon as he answered. "Yes, sir." After that, I couldn't control my anger anymore.

I sent a message to my 2nd oldest: "Get a duffle bag ready; we're going to Texas." There was an instant reply: "Yes, Dad." Good.

I still need to take my anger out on something. I threw my glass coffee table across the room and watched as it broke into a million pieces. I kept throwing everything in my office. I didn't keep a single thing. In the end, my office was trashed with glass everywhere and papers on the floor.

I took a deep breath and thought of how I was going to tell my sons. I know one thing, and that is they're going to be happy. All of my sons wanted a baby sister ever since they were young. And now that they have a baby sister, they're going to be over the moon.

I took a long deep breath and pressed the speaker that is connected in the whole house so no matter where they are, they can still hear, "FAMILY MEETING NOW. DON'T BE FUCKING LATE."

Let's see how it goes.

While I was walking down the stairs, I felt my phone vibrate in my black trousers. I paused my steps, unlocked my phone and opened the e-mail sent from the officer. Once I opened it and saw the picture, I stood there frozen in my spot. There was a beautiful girl that looked to be in her teenage years. She had blue-greenish eyes that looked fetching. Her light brunette hair looked so soft and silky, and they were a little past her shoulders. Her face had had nothing on it, not even an acne scar. Her eyebrows were arched, and she had a cute button nose.

At that moment all my doubts vanished. I now know that this girl is absolutely my daughter. She looks just like Camron. Heck, they could be twins if not for the obvious age difference. However, as I looked at the picture more closely, I noticed that she looked a bit too skinny and pale.

I immediately started thinking about the worst. Was she not fed properly? Didn't they have enough money to buy food? Is she sick? Does she have a small appetite? Was she being starved? I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart and continued walking down the stairs and passed the kitchen until I reached the living room, where I could hear my sons bickering and yelling.