"Picture this: Dirty cops, multiple vicious latino street gangs, crooked politicians all working together to keep me in business, eh? A paradise made from the blood, sweat and tears of those who laid down their life's for this... And you really think I'm gonna let a fuck up like you put me- no, this family in the way of all your bullshit?"
He stands up and slams his hands down onto the large desk then reaches to punch the glass window.
"You come close to me, my family or my fucking money, chunks of you're wife's brains will decorate my fucking carpets. That would be a shame now wouldn't it? I heard that you're trying for child number two. Am I right?"
"Yes sir."
"And you wouldn't want poor Yasmina to be widowed and be forced to raise them alone, would you?"
"No sir."
"Good, good. Looks like we've found some common ground. Now get the fuck outta my office." The man relaxes back into his seat and nips a cigar before placing it in his mouth. "Oh, and send in my daughter on your way out."
"Right way sir."
The man leaves in a panicked state, fumbling around with the doorknob until he mange's to get it open. With hurried footsteps the man rushes to a small room where a woman was sitting patiently.
"Señorita, su padre quiere verte."
(Miss, your father wants to see you.)
The woman looks at him and her smile dwindles. She can tell by the look of horror on the mans face that her father was in a fowl mood.
"Gracias, Manolo. Tell Yasmina that I look forward to our lunch date next week."
"Yes ma'am."
She starts her way towards her father's office. Dread slowly keeping up her neck as she nears. Her hands pull at the large doors and she masks her worried expression with a sweet smile.
"Ah, there she is! My beautiful daughter!" He waves her further into the room. "Come, let me see how much you've grown!"
"Hello papa. How have you been?" She takes a seat on the chair in front of the desk and he ashes his cigar.
"I'm fine I'm fine. Tell me about you! How's school? You need more money for books? Let me know and I'll get it to you."
"Thank you papa but the money you sent me last time was more than enough. And my studies are going well. I'm passing all my classes."
"Muy bien, mi princesa." His gaze hardens and the girl starts to squirm in her seat. "How's your mama?"
Her jaw clenches. She knew that he only ever brought her up when something was wrong.
"Mama is fine. It's been a while since I've visited but-"
"Is she still with that German piece of shit?"
"Papa, you agreed that-"
"I know what I agreed to!" He swipes his arm, removing all his paperwork from his desk to the floor. "I'm sorry princesa. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It- It's fine. I know you don't like him..."
A long moment of silence fills the air between them before he speaks again.
"Tell me hija, does he fuck her?"
The girl cringes at her fathers vulgar question. "That's not appropriate papa."
"You answer me, you tell me if that hijo de puta fucks my woman in the in house I bought for her! Tell me!"
"I- I don't know!" Her lips quivers as she sinks lower in the oversized chair. 'Please, not again', she thought to herself.
"That fucking whore! She fucks whoever will pay her more!" He reaches across his desk and grabs her face. "You tell that bitch that she can rot in hell! You tell her that she's fucked, because as soon as that bastard is done with her, he'll throw her away!"
"Papa please! You're hurting me!" She whimpers. Her eye frantically searching his, trying desperately to reach the sane part of her father's withering mind. "Please papa, let me go... Let me go."
He releases her face and falls back into his chair. His hand pulls at his hair as manic laughter erupts from his lips.
"Lo siento, princesa." He chuckles louder. His shoulders shaking as the hardy laughter grows. "Una cosa que debes recordar de tu papá, es que es un anciano loco."
(I'm sorry, princess. One thing you should remember about your dad, is that he's a crazy old man.)
"It's okay papa..." She leaves her seat and walks around his desk. "You're not crazy." She kneels and grabs his hand and rubs her thumb on the inside of his palm. "You're not crazy at all."
He takes his free hand and cups her cheek. "You look like her you know. Especially the way you are now... On your knees, crying and lying straight to my face."
Her heart beats rapidly in her chest as he continued to touch her face.
"Papa..."
He presses his index finger to her lips. "Shh, it's okay." He traces her bottom lip. "I won't hurt you, I'll make you feel better... I love you, Veronica."
The girl blinks back her tears and gives her father a weary smile. She knew what was going to happen next. It went like this every time he called her that name instead of her own.
"I l- love you too." She nods as if she were trying to make herself believe the words leaving her mouth. "I love you too..."