How Was It?

Claudius rose from his seat and led the way, Bobbie trailing closely behind. They made their way to an elevator tucked away in a discreet corner of the club. Stepping inside, the doors closed behind them, signaling their descent into the depths below.

The elevator descended into an underground laboratory, a clandestine space where their ambitious projects took shape. As the doors parted, the two men entered the laboratory, greeted by a sight that filled them with a sense of anticipation. Manuela, Robert's partner and loyal accomplice, stood beside a man whose head boasted strands of white hair, which was perceived as a sign of wisdom.

“Godfather”, The man, Marcos Estabon smiled.

Inside the laboratory, the atmosphere hung heavy with anticipation as Dr. Estabon and Claudius, the Godfather, busily prepared for their experiment. The renowned scientist, Marcos Estabon, had always been known for his innovative and eccentric ideas, and today’s creation, the Memory Editing Program (M.E.P), promised to be his most remarkable endeavor yet.

In the center of the laboratory stood an enormous jar, resembling a cylinder, filled with a swirling, bluish liquid. The jar was adorned with various tubes that connected to the unconscious girl floating within. Wires attached to her head implied the exchange of information occurring within her slumbering mind.

Eager to ascertain the success of the M.E.P’s second prototype, Von Barrett pressed a button, detaching the tubes from the jar. As the bluish liquid poured out onto the ground, the girl’s eyes fluttered open, her body emerging from the confined space of the jar.

Her irises were vacant, empty of any discernible emotion. Von Barrett, visibly excited and slightly apprehensive, gestured for Claudius to approach, bestowing him with the role of master in this venture.

“Godfather,” Dr. Estabon addressed Claudius with unwavering respect, “I present to you the result of our diligent efforts.”

The girl, acknowledging her new position, immediately bowed her head in deference. “Master,” she murmured obediently.

Claudius, his curiosity piqued, instructed her to raise her head. As her blank gaze met his, he posed a question that would unveil her purpose in life.

“What is your purpose in this world?” He asked, his voice reverberating with poised authority.

Without hesitation, the girl responded, her voice devoid of emotion. “To destroy and eliminate everyone from the VITO… Especially Salvatore D'Arezzo.”

A smile played upon Claudius’s lips, satisfaction evident in his countenance. The girl’s answer pleased him, confirming the alignment of her objectives with their own.

“Now, tell me,” he continued, his voice laced with intent. “Who do you despise the most in this world?”

Her expression shifted from blankness to fury as she clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms.

“Dahlia Gilmore,” she declared, her voice filled with anger and resolve.

***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***

“Oh, I’m so tired!”, Dahlia exclaimed.

The aromas of simmering stew filled the air as Dahlia, her face etched with fatigue, stirred the pot lazily. It had been a long and tiring morning in the grand kitchen, with the maids bustling around, each attending to their respective culinary tasks. Adala, her close friend, known for her sharp tongue and playful nature, couldn’t help but chuckle at Dahlia’s tired declaration.

“Oh, dear, it’s no wonder you’re exhausted,” Adala smirked, finding amusement in Dahlia’s comment. Dahlia’s sleep-deprived eyes darted towards Adala, the exhaustion momentarily replaced by curiosity and a touch of guardedness.

“What did you just say?” Dahlia questioned, her voice tinged with both apprehension and concern.

With a knowing glint in her eyes, Adala decided to tease Amour a little. She had stumbled upon her friend’s clothing discreetly strewn about in the Boss’s room, and now she couldn’t resist taunting her unsuspecting friend.

“I saw your clothes lying in the Boss’s room,” She whispered conspiratorially, unable to keep the mischievous grin from forming on her lips. “So, tell me, was it a sweet encounter or something even more…”

Dahlia’s eyes widened, and a blush crept up her cheeks as she swiftly covered Adala’s lips with her hand.

“Shh! Don’t let anyone hear you!” Dahlia pleaded, her embarrassment evident in her tone.

Adala, delighted by Dahlia’s shy reaction, giggled mischievously before continuing her teasing. She was determined to gather all the juicy details, much to Dahlia’s chagrin.

“So, Dahlia, tell me, was it your first time? And how was it?” Adala pressed on, unable to reign in her inquisitiveness.

Dahlia’s face paled at the memory that flooded her mind, recalling the pain and discomfort she had experienced during her first intimate encounter. However, a sudden realization struck her, causing her eyes to widen in a mixture of horror and disbelief.

“Uh…” Her voice trembled, her throat growing dry as she struggled to find the right words.

As words tumbled out of Adala’s mouth, Amour’s heart raced with panic. She couldn’t bear to hear any more of her teasing, so she hastily fled from the bustling kitchen before Adala could finish her sentence. Adala, left in bewildered silence, pondered over Dahlia’s recent bouts of sudden urgency.

“Why is she always in such a rush lately?” Dahlia wondered aloud to herself, shaking her head in mild confusion.

Meanwhile, Dahlia sprinted through the corridors, her mind consumed with thoughts of Salvatore and the consequences of her reckless actions. She desperately hoped that if she apologized quickly, perhaps he would show mercy and lessen her impending punishment. With each step, her racing heart urged her forward towards Salvatore’s suite.

The guards, taken aback by Dahlia’s sudden sprint and determined expression, tried to halt her progress. However, fueled by anxiety and a desire to make amends, she managed to slip past their grasps and burst into Salvatore’s room. What met her eyes left her speechless and her throat parched with apprehension.

There stood Callixta, casually donning one of Salvatore’s shirts that clung to her figure in a way that could only be described as alluring. In that moment, Dahlia felt a sharp pang of discomfort as she realized the proximity in which the two of them found themselves.

There was a pause as the door to the bathroom swung open, revealing a towel-clad Salvatore, rivulets of water cascading down his sculpted torso. Dahlia’s gaze shifted back and forth between Callixta and Salvatore, an uncomfortable tension filling the room.

Her heart sank, the weight of her actions settling heavily upon her. A wave of insecurity washed over her, as she couldn’t help but compare herself to the beauty that was Callixta. Doubts and self-consciousness gnawed at her thoughts, making her feel even more vulnerable and out of place.

Dahlia’s mind raced, searching for the right words to say in this surreal and awkward situation. She had never felt so out of her depth before, and she silently berated herself for the audacity of her actions and the anger she had caused Salvatore. Her emotions battled between remorse and a desperate desire for forgiveness.