La Diabla

Chapter 5

Zarita POV:

I was shocked to say the least, but carrying out my role of being the same girl that they remembered I jumped out of joy and ran towards my father, crying of course.

I hated tears, the way that it makes someone so vulnerable in a situation sickens me, especially when I learnt that in this world vulnerability is a weakness that others can use against you.

"PAPA!" I screamed as I jumped into my fathers arms, wincing slightly on the inside not being used to a loving touch other than from them.

He caught me gracefully, which isn't surprising considering that I'm 5'1" and hes at least 6'5". I started sobbing into his shoulder as he held me so tight I thought he was going to pop one of my lungs.

"My Baby" He whispered, sounding very just as vulnerable as me, in this moment. He pulled back to look at me and stared to address how I look. "You look that same but also so different, I missed you so much, and so did your brothers and mother."

"I missed you too dad" I sadly replied, getting confused on why I actually meant some of this emotion. I never had any emotion unless I was around them. They made me feel happy and normal for once in my life but once again we were ripped away from each other.

Father softly plopped me back down onto the ground and went to pick up the bags at my feet. "Come, lets go home Rita"

"Where exactly is home again?" I question, he looks sad at this question, and I'm assuming it's because I barely still remember anything about my past.

"Mexico, baby, Home is in Mexico"

"Yaaayy!! I can get a nice tan on the beach and play in the water" I squeal, and dad smiles at the innocence in the one sentence. I inwardly roll my eyes, everybody always thinks that girls are always innocent, like why can't a girl beat guys up and kill people for a living, of wait this girl does, but even after everything that I have done to secure my title in the underworld there are still people who underestimate me, including those bastards that adopted me. Many people have tried to drown me under the water but I always rise to the surface once again wearing the crown. I am not cocky enough to say that no one will ever beat me but it has not happened yet, nor am I willing to let it. I am winning because I need to win and because it was ingrained into me from such a young age. If I didn't win I would most likely die.

"Of course, but not wearing anything inappropriate" Dad says sternly, once again I inwardly roll my eyes and chirp back. "Of course papa"

"Alright then to the jet we go" And just like that a cold emotionless facade drops over the face of a man who has suffered for far too long in his life, but no one dares to look into his eyes long enough to notice the real emotion that lays underneath, and it is relief.

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On the jet

The ride here is very silent, all you can hear is the sound of our breathing and the cars engine rumbling. Papa was holding onto my hand so tight he was ought to break some bones but he didn't notice, and I wasn't going to tell him and make him feel bad for hurting me so I left it be.

The family jet was on a private runway that only rich people reserve which is pretty smart if you ask me. The jet was sleek black with a red and black interior.(A/n I couldn't find a picture of the jet I wanted so just imagine it however you like) Makes sense since the Mexican cartel colors are red and black.

I sit into a seat and dad sits across from me, "Sleep Rita, it's going to be a long flight"

"Mmk dad" Closing my eyes and a couple of minutes later evening out my breathes so that he thinks I'm sleeping.