"What was that Mozlim doing here?" Frank says softly, mockingly.

Dante stays silent, still standing on the very spot where she left him, and clutching the bracelet into his palm to the point of dunking it in the skin. His eyes still looking at the direction of the path, where she walked away.

She dared to walk on him and he just stood there, saying nothing, doing nothing.

It's a first Dante.

"Send details of the South- East to my study."

He climbs upstairs, ordering him. He is the only one soul he relies on but not blindly.

There is no trust. Only forced loyalty that can snaps back anytime.

In the world of power and brutality, there is nothing good. The clouds of darkness never let thunder of light strikes in. It conquers the weak and the strongest rules.

Coming to the room, he sits at a corner of his lavish bed staring at the bracelet Warina had returned. He holds it by the end and notices a slight change. The hook appears to be different comparing to the rest of it. It's lighter and dull. The bracelet is made of platinum and the hook seems like fake silver.

He smiles blandly, rolling his eyes. The sound of notification pops in his ears, getting his attention. Checking his phone, shadow of numbness welcomes in the memories of years ago miseries and despairs, it's the day. It's the day when he lost everything; his family was doomed to death on the street in cold night without a mercy. And it's all because of him. That fucking man caused so much of agony to his family, three children had to see their mother begged to survive, only to face the cruelty of death.

The wrath of revenge, the yearning of his mother and the tears of his infant siblings are pounding and burning him to the ground with the shame of failure and hatred.

His phone rings. An unknown number calling.

He answers the call, saying nothing. A deep sigh is heard on the other side of the phone. The sigh is packed with sorrow and tears and hurt.

"It's been sixteen years."

"Seventeen." He corrects the caller.

A brief moment is shared between them, tranquilly.

"Will you go to visit her, today?" A heavy, broken voice asks.

He grabs the phone tightly, suppressing his own demons, "No."

The person chuckles with eyes dip in bitter water, "I'm coming home very soon"

"NO! You're not!" Instantly he becomes alert with fear, "You won't be coming home. If he gets to know he'll come after you. I can't risk that. YOU GOT IT!"

"And you really think he actually has no idea of me being alive still. That he really bought you?" The tired voice demands, "Don't you think after all these years of hiding and sufferance, I just might need my brothers now." 

"I don't fucking care. I need you safe at any cost." 

"Take care Dante."

"Melisa! Do..." Before he'd protest she hangs up. This call results in more of a distress than relief. If his head strong sister is set on something, she won't breathe until that matter is completed. His worries grow more and more. He can't risk of exposing her in the world of blood and power all over again. 

Taking a long shower, he suits up in the typical King attire and drives somewhere, far from the world he rules, somewhere seeking his origin back to life. 

Hours of driving has been not tiring rather mournful. Smoke from burning cigars have been shading his eyes with sorrows. He's no more weak little teen he once used to be. He's the fear that evoke in people by the mere look of his. 

He's the ruler.

He's the power.

He's the ultimate narrator of others' lives.

He brakes beside an old and rusty metal gate. Grabbing the steering wheel strongly, he inhales all his torments surfacing above, trying to paralyze him. Slowly he gets out of the car and with shaky cold hands he pushes the half broken gate and paces in. 

Ten steps away lies a head stone engraved lines in italics.

"Love is the greatest strength and kindness is the greatest weapon."

Here lies Charlotte, a beautiful mother who loved conditionally.

January 1969 - April 2003

The milestones he has reached in order to stand on the position where he is standing today, seems like worthless dirt lying under shoes, standing here. He knees down. It's hard to live with a body that wants to survive, a mind that wants to sleep and never wake up and a heart of a dead star.  

He crawls like a sloth, unable to walk, feeling nothing but agony that is bursting inside his mind and body - it aches like snatching a soul from the body. His eyes are flashing the horrible past which he survived which he wasn't meant. 

The women sleeping under the grave, his mother who meant the world to him was suppose to be alive today but he has failed. A failure hideous than a murder. 

"M-ma-maama!" The heaviest breath he let out. Finally a  drop of tear rolls down his rough cheeks, cooling them. 

"W-why did you do that?" Weeping anguishly, he swipes away all dirt and dried leaves. He cries and cries like a child in want of his mother, hugging the tombstone, lying his head on the concrete, he searches some warmth. 

That's why he denies visiting this place. It's the only the place where this ruthless and tough mafia king who terrorizes the world, breaks out into pieces and become most vulnerable. 

...

Upon arriving home, Waria discovers her cousin hasn't arrived home yet and she didn't bother to worry about it. It's a much blessed relief for her when Karim isn't near her. Though her aunt  has asked about him a couple of times, she just ignores her. She freshen up and eats her food in peace, while completing some paper works that Oliver has assigned her before going to Brazil, taking her Eliza with him.

Damn you Mr. Oliver Henderson!

It's been only day one that Eliza has gone but it feels like centuries, may be because it's the longest they have stayed away. She ringed her twice but it seems like she is busy as she never answered. 

Time goes by and the clock ticks at midnight but Karim hasn't come home yet. Warina has gone to bed, hugging the love of her life - her pikachu she drowse off to sleep when a bombastic scream jerks her from the bed. Wrapping the head scarf, she runs down, following the voice. 

Karim is standing at the door, looking like a homeless traveler. His hair is a nest and sweat is dropping like rain from his body. His red face and heavy breath makes his look like a angry monkey.

Suppressing a chuckle, she stands beside her mother. Her aunt is screaming and crying seeing his son's appear.

"What happened Karim Bhai (Brother)?" She teases.

Shooting a dead look to her, he marches like a wind at her, taking her by surprise and she takes some steps backward. 

"YOU BLOODY BITCH!" He yells on her face. "IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU I'VE TO FUCKING WALK ALL THE WAY HOME." He raises a slap at her when her father stops him and slaps him instead. 

"This is my house and you're talking to my daughter. How dare you to behave like this and that even in front of me?" It's that one of the few times when Mr. Khan really looses his temper and it's not pretty when it happens. 

"ASIF!" Her aunt protest. "Why are you scolding him? It's your brat of a daughter who did this to him!" 

"I don't want to hear any further words about this. Appa (Sister), take Karim inside. And Warina I need to have words with you, missy." His stern tone quiets the entire house. 

Jumbling with her fingers, she sits beside her father, bowing her head down. She knows her actions may not be justified and she feels a bit of guilty about Karim's situation too but she can't be entirely blamed, right?

"Explain yourself." He orders. 

"Asif, please don't scold her. There must a good reason why she has done something like that." Her mother supports.

"Ah! Momina don't support her." He replies.

"Baba, (father) a-actually I-I'm, I really didn't w-wan..." She fumbles, tears forming in her eyes. She wishes if Eliza was here. She can't do this alone.

Sighing heavily, Mr. Khan cares her head and asks softly about her reasons this time.

"Baba, (father), Karim Bhai (brother) isn't a good person. He harasses me a lot.His intentions are very nasty. Baba, Ammi (Father, mother) you don't know what he did." She weeps, telling everything to them and reasoning herself. 

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Her mother asks.

"I just didnt want to bother you guys and I wasn't sure you would believe either." Her statement surprises both of her parents. 

"Beta, (my child) have we ever gave you any reason to think like that?" Mr. Khan wipes her face. "Listen whatever happens we'll always be with you. Why won't we believe you? You're our child after all. Never think like, okay?"

"I'm the luckiest daughter." She giggles. 

_________________________________________

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