His eternity

Chapter 4

Francisco's POV

When the car had come to a stop, I gazed out of the window and saw an old, rundown apartment complex.
Startled, I jumped when a noise interrupted my thoughtfull haze and I saw my father knocking on the car's window.

"Are you coming?"

I opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. An unpleasant smell of smoke, urine and garbage penetrated  my senses and I grimaced. Jesus Christ, why the fuck did we end up here?!
My father seemed to know where to go, as he walked straight towards the entrance and rang, looking at one of the many nameplates. It took a while until we heard a voice from the intercom.

"Yes, who's there?"

The voice sounded scared and anxious, almost as if the man who had answered knew exactly who had rung the bell.

"Open the door, Ashford. It's time."

He squeaked out a quick
"Yes of course!"
and the door opened with a click.
Taking the rusty elevator we went up to one of the upper floors and I noticed our destination immediately.

One of the doors in the hallway was opened and a slightly trembling man stood in it's opening. He wore a pair of worn-out jeans and an old, white button-up shirt and although his face was distorted by fear, his little laugh lines promised an otherwise happy nature.

Still skeptical of the whole situation, I followed my father, who was purposefully walking down the dark, shady corridor, towards the open door at the end of the corridor where the man was standing. On closer inspection, he appeared to be younger than my father, though not by many years, and in general, he was the complete opposite of my father.

He didn't radiate self-confidence, no dominance. He was not accompanied by an aura of fear. Rather, he seemed to be a simple working man and father who would have liked to continue living his life as usual, but now received a visit from the Salvinis that he rather would not have experienced.

My father's loud, powerful Italian voice echoed through the corridor like an echo that heralded an approaching storm and startled even me for a brief moment.

"Scott Ashford! It is an honor for me to finally be able to pay the long-awaited visit. I think we may enter, no?"

Of course, he didn't allow any other answer than yes with this statement and that's the way it always should be. Nobody should dare question the Salvinis. Scott Ashford on the other hand, seemed to want to say anything but yes but still opened the door to his apartment out of fear for my father and the curiosity of his neighbors and took a small step to the side to make room for us to enter.

After analyzing his gestures and behavior, however, I came to the conclusion that my parents might not be wrong after all. Even if his demeanor did not speak of self-confidence and the environment in which he lived was not prosperous, he still seemed polite and had a friendly character. Something I secretly hoped and wished to find in my future wife.

When we got to the door, Mister Ashford held out his hand towards my father and adverted his gaze towards the corridors floor, almost as if he was trying to bow with his eyes. This was the level of respect my father was used to and what I wished to achieve in the near future.

My father had always made it clear to me that our name was already associated with advantages, but we as individuals were nevertheless responsible for working for these advantages and for living up to the name. So I knew I had to earn respect and wouldn't just get it.

"Thank you Seniori, for taking the time for me and my daughter and for celebrating this special day with us. She is still in her room, but I will get her immediately, just go to the living room and make yourself comfortable there."

While my father had already entered the small apartment, I was still standing in the doorway, kind of lost and undecided. The whole situation was just so abstruse that I wanted to escape. I liked my independence, I enjoyed not having to take care of anyone else besides myself and to not be responsible for other people. I didn't even know how to possibly act this way with someone. I had never had siblings to worry about.

I would become a terrible husband to a terrible woman. What a joke. I was taken out of my thoughts when I noticed that Mister Ashford was still patiently and expectingly holding out his hand and waiting for me to shake it. I grabbed a hold of it with a determined expression and gave it a quick squeeze.

"It's nice to meet you," I spoke briefly.

"I am honored Senor Salvini," Ashford replied.

I stepped into the apartment and started to take off into the direction in which my father had already disappeared. I entered a very small and cramped living room, that still gave off a homey and welcoming feeling.

"Can I offer you anything to drink or eat," Scott asked us expectantly, but we both declined.

"Please take a seat, I'll get my daughter".

And with that he left the room. The situation made me uncomfortable, after all I was in his apartment, which I was not familiar with, and had to come to terms with the fact that he could come back into the room at any given second to shoot me with a gun or to kill me with any other dangerous object. So I looked at my father to see how he was handling the situation, but he seemed focused and calm.

I heard Ashford's muffled voice in the next room and the quiet voice of a young woman who answered him. Moments later, Ashford entered the living room.

His tall, bulky stature almost completely covered and hid the body of the young woman, and yet nothing could prevent me from instantly realizing who was standing right in front of me.

Could it really be?