Bathe Me

Adala smiled softly as she squatted before her father’s grave, the tender act serving as a tribute to the man she had lost too soon. Her father had passed away in a tragic car accident when she was just a child, leaving behind a void in their lives. Though her memories of him were limited, she made sure to cherish and preserve every fragment they held.

“Dad, I hope you’re not missing us too much up there,” She spoke with a hint of nostalgia in her voice, her eyes gazing at the letters etched on the gravestone. Life had been challenging since his departure, but they were persevering through the hardships. “Mom and I are faring well. The journey has been rough, but we’ll find our way. Mom is busy these days, so please don’t be mad if she hasn’t had the chance to visit you yet.”

With utmost care, she laid a bouquet of flowers on the grave, a gesture of love and remembrance. Straightening her posture, she cast one last glance at the grave, bidding her father farewell for now. “I have to go now. See you another time, Dad. Love you,” she whispered, waving gently before turning away.

As she walked away, the chill in the air grasped at her, causing her to dip her hands into the pockets of her coat for warmth. The wind rustled through her hair, disheveling the strands that she had previously tucked behind her ear. Despite the cold, she kept a determined stride, her thoughts drifting towards her parents.

“Mom… Dad…” she mumbled, the words forming on her lips as she reminisced about their presence in her life.

Mid-thought, Adala halted her steps, drawn to the sound of distraught cries. She turned her head to the right, where her gaze landed on a man knelt before two graves, his sorrow echoing through the air. The intensity of his cries captured her attention, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy for the stranger’s grief.

She fought the urge to simply ignore the man’s cries and walk away, but as a flicker of recognition passed through her mind, she froze. An unmistakable realization dawned upon her. The coat he was wearing, the one she had noticed from a distance, belonged to none other than Ponce. Though part of her wanted to dismiss the possibility, her curiosity got the better of her, compelling her to approach him cautiously.

With each step she took, her eyes widening in astonishment, Adala confirmed her suspicions. It was indeed him, the enigmatic figure who seemed to appear in her life unexpectedly and at the most unexpected times. The sight of him shedding tears sent a shockwave through her, mingling surprise with concern.

Unable to contain her perplexity, she glanced around and let out a deep sigh. “Why must I always run into him?” she muttered under her breath. Despite her mixed emotions, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him behind, the empathetic side of her driving her to kneel down beside him.

Trembling hands rose hesitantly, eventually coming to rest gently upon his back. Ponce's bloodshot, teary eyes met Adala’s widened gaze, his surprise evident in his expression. “You?” he murmured, his voice catching with a hint of vulnerability. Swiftly, he averted his gaze, attempting to discreetly wipe away the traces of his tears.

Her voice was soft yet determined as she sought to ease his discomfort. “Hey, there’s nothing embarrassing about letting out one’s emotions once in a while. Just cry it out. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. I understand if you don’t want anyone to see you like this,” she whispered, hoping to offer him solace in his vulnerability.

Ponce followed her gaze to the graves before him, his voice heavy with a mixture of sorrow and frustration. “I was just five when that monster took them away from me,” he muttered, the pain lacing his words undeniable.

The memories of that fateful day remained etched in his mind, haunting him with vivid clarity. He could still recall the sound of the door crashing open, the desperation in his parents’ voices as they pleaded with the intruders for mercy. They had borrowed money from these men in order to provide for him, but when the repayment deadline arrived, their lives were mercilessly threatened.

His mother, her face etched with fear, had whispered for him to hide. From his hiding place, young Viper witnessed the gruesome events unfold before his eyes. He watched helplessly as those men, driven by their insatiable greed, ruthlessly took his family away from him, leaving him as an orphan at the tender age of five.

Left to fend for himself, he resorted to scavenging whatever he could find in the trash bins to sustain himself. For years, he learned to survive in the harsh realities of life, a silent witness to the cruelties that existed in the world. But at the age of ten, his life took an unexpected turn owing to a chance encounter with a teenage Salvatore..

Salvatore, recognizing his potential, took him under his wing. Seeing the resilience and determination in the young orphan, he decided to introduce him to the world of organized crime, an opportunity that would give him the means to survive and thrive. And so, under the guidance of Salvatore, he slowly began to build a new life for himself, marked by secrecy, shadows, and survival.

As Ponce finished recounting his painful history, his words lingered in the air, carrying the weight of his past. Adala, her heart heavy with empathy, whispered softly, “I’m sorry.” Her sincere apology hung between them, a small token of solace in the face of incredible loss.

His voice trembled as he spoke, his words filled with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. “A criminal like me is supposed to act tough and never show any signs of emotion, but…each time I think about them, I can’t help it. This isn’t the life I wanted for myself. I wanted to be a surgeon, to make my parents proud for all the sacrifices they made for me.” Despite his efforts to hold back the tears, they welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

Adala sighed softly, her heart aching for the pain that he carried within. She placed a comforting hand on his back, offering support in the only way she knew how.

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

The atmosphere in the Godfather’s suite was tense as Faye quietly entered, finding the powerful figure seated in his chair with a deeply furrowed brow. Sensing the displeasure at her presence, she respectfully bowed slightly before addressing him.

“Godfather,” she greeted, her voice laced with both deference and concern.

Godfather’s piercing gaze narrowed, his face reflecting the gravity of the situation. “What are the results from the investigation?” he inquired sharply, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity.

Faye took a steadying breath, knowing that relaying the dismal news would not be well-received. “Yesterday, as we were preparing to launch an attack on Black Venom Cob, it became apparent that they were expecting our move. This isn’t the first time it has happened, boss,” she reported, consciously choosing his words with care.

A flicker of fury crossed Godfather’s features, his eyes ablaze with a dangerous mix of anger and determination. “That can only mean one thing…there’s a spy within our own clan,” he sneered, his voice filled with disdain.

Faye nodded grimly, fully aware of the implications that such a betrayal carried.

“But who could it be?” He queried, a hint of frustration seeping into his tone.

Godfather’s expression soured further, frustration evident in every line etched on his face.

“I have no idea,” Flame admitted curtly, her voice laced with annoyance.

The reality of an unknown traitor lurking in their midst weighed heavily on his mind, imposing a sense of urgency to root out the betrayer before any more damage could be inflicted.

“Fuck!” Godfather spat angrily.

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

Dahlia stood outside the door, her hand tentatively knocking against the wood. To her surprise, the door swung open on its own accord, revealing a dimly lit room. Uncertainty gnawed at her as she stepped inside, scanning the room for any sign of her master.

“Sir,” Dahlia called out softly, her voice echoing through the silence. She wondered why he had sent one of his guards to fetch her, but he seemed to have disappeared. Faint sounds of splashing water reached her ears, drawing her attention towards the closed bathroom door.

Summoning her courage, she approached the door with hesitant steps. She raised her hand and rapped gently against the smooth surface. “Sir, you called for me?” She spoke in a hushed tone, unsure of what to expect.

“Come in,” a deep voice resonated from the other side of the door, causing Dahlia’s eyes to widen in surprise.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside, her eyes tightly shut. Her heart pounded in her chest as her mind raced with thoughts of what awaited her on the other side.

“I’m here, Sir,” She uttered, her voice barely above a whisper, as she braced herself for whatever awaited her.

“What are you doing?” Salvatore’s voice rang out, breaking the silence and causing her eyes to flutter open.

Relief washed over her in an instant as she took in the sight before her. He sat in a soapy tub, his upper body visible above the waterline. His thin eyes bore into her with the usual disinterested expression, but a mischievous smirk danced upon his lips. His arms rested casually on the edges of the tub, exuding an air of regality.

“Sir, what do you…” Dahlia began to question, her words trailing off as confusion clouded her mind.

“Bathe me,” He interrupted her, his voice dripping with command.

Dahlia’s eyes widened in disbelief, her mind struggling to process his request. The magnitude of the situation weighed heavily on her, as she grappled with her mixed emotions and the boundaries that were being blurred. Uncertainty twisted in her stomach as she tried to gather her thoughts and find the right words to respond.