Chupacabra | 18+ | ✔️

▪︎■ 04 ■▪︎

▪■︎ Adrin Bianchi ■▪︎

"I want all the men to go out and find him. Seek in every house, use every contact, every hint, track his phone or a fucking watch, I don't care! But find him!" I ordered my men.

They ran through the building when I finished my speech, going after their tasks.

I had to calm myself down. This angry, impulsive part wasn't me. I was coolheaded, thought about my every move, but this unpleasant surprise brought me out of balance. To bring me back to normal, I did what I always did as a child. I trained.

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Sweat covered my body and I constantly had to swipe over my eyes and forehead.
I then continued to hit and kick the punching bag that had to take all my rage, punch by punch. My knuckles were bloody by now but the pain only drove me further into madness and added to my inner storm of emotions.

He's alive. He's alive. He's fucking alive.

The only good thing I could think of now, was the fact that I could finally kill the man who destroyed my life. With my own bare hands.

Five years ago I searched for him, relentlessly, only to find out someone already took the opportunity for me to meet my own promise, leaving behind a shitty son, again.

I hit the punching bag, again and again. It was far past midnight and I stopped counting the hours I had spent down here. Nicolas tried to talk to me but I just sent him away. I wasn't in the mood to talk.
I wanted to do something.

▪︎▪︎▪︎ 20 years ago ▪︎▪︎▪︎

"Dad must be here every minute, sweetie," my mom smiled at my seven year old self, messing up my hair by stroking over my head. Growing impatient, I shook my head and ran a few steps away, before turning and looking at her, stubbornly.

"It's almost night, mamá! I don't want to wait anymore. He isn't even here on Christmas!"

Her smile changed and mirrored sad, pityful thoughts. She walked towards me and squated down, lightly grabbing my arms next to my body. "I know you're upset but he has to work a bit longer tonight... I'm sorry, Adrin."

"Do you think padre will come back? I mean... maybe something happened." I looked her in the eyes, not sure how she would react.

It was a somehow exceedingly sensitive topic, although we both knew very well what my father did to earn money. They never really told me he was a criminal, but I figured it out eventually. The bigger picture, on the other hand, would be revealed a few years later. The moment I discovered I was the heir to a whole mafia empire, was another story to tell.