Vendetta: Mafia's Deadly Game

Deceptive Truth

[Eleanor's Pov]

I turned off the phone, but I was still processing the news that my father, whom I haven't seen in the past 15 years, had been admitted to the hospital.

I desired to go to the hospital, but I lacked a valid reason to leave the house. My mind started to stress as I searched for a suitable excuse that wouldn't disturb my mother mentally, revealing that I am in contact with my father.

Experiencing a mixture of emotions, I made the decision to take a moment to gather myself. I entered the living room and immediately noticed my mother sitting on the couch, her gaze fixed on a picture frame in her hands.

I approached her cautiously. The photograph she held was one I had just seen once in my life. It was an old, faded picture, cut right down the middle. Only two people were visible in the frame - my mother and 10 year old me. But the middle person, the one connecting us, had been cut out.

A wave of sadness washed over me as I looked at that picture. It has already been 15 years. I have always felt a void in my life, a missing piece that I couldn't quite identify. Now, as I stared at the picture, I realized who the missing piece in my life was.

"Ahem!" I cleared my throat and began searching for excuses to start a conversation.

Glancing at the clock, I exclaimed, "Oh no, I completely forgot about the office work I need to complete today!"

My mother looked at me with curiosity and asked, "What office work? You have been working tirelessly for the past week. You deserve a day of rest before going back to the office."

"Yes, I know, mom, but there is an urgent report that needs to be submitted by the end of the day. It completely slipped my mind."

She looked at me in silence. Perhaps they could clearly see the stubble on my face, or maybe I was unable to hide it properly.

She grew concerned and asked, "Is everything alright? You seem a bit flustered."

"Well, Mom, the thing is, my laptop crashed last night, and I lost all the data. I have a backup, but it's on an external hard drive that I left at the office."

"Oh no, that's terrible! But can't you just explain the situation to your boss and ask for an extension?" she suggested, offering a new idea.

"I wish I could, but our new CEO is quite strict about deadlines. Plus, I don't want to give the impression that I'm slacking. This will be my first impression of Mr. Daniel, and I don't want to make a bad impression."

"Okay, I understand. So, what's your plan then?" She asked, sounding resigned. I didn't want to lie to her either, but what could I do? Joseph Anderson is my biological father, not Ava. And no court in the world could deny that fact.

I sighed. "I need to go to the office and retrieve the backup from my external hard drive. It's the only way I can complete the report on time."

"But isn't the office closed now? It's 11:30 pm," she pointed out, glancing at the clock.

"Yes, it is, but I managed to convince our security guard to let me in for a short period. He will provide me with a temporary access pass."

My mom seemed skeptical. "I don't know, Ele. It sounds quite risky. Is there any other way you can get the backup?"

"I have explored all the options, but unfortunately, this seems to be the only viable one. I promise I will return as soon as possible, so please do not worry about me and go to sleep, okay?" I reassured her.

My mom sighed, "Alright, I trust you. Just be careful, okay? And let me know if you need any help with anything."

I nodded and hugged her tightly. Embracing her is a sensory experience that encompasses the love and warmth she brings into my life. It is a fragrance that instantly transports me to a place of security and happiness.

My mother expressed concern, "Take care, Eleanor. Remember, safety comes first, so drive safely!"

"I will, mom. See you soon!" I said in a hoarse voice.

[St. Mew hospital, 10 pm]

Instead of going to the office, I decided to head towards St. Mew hospital. Taking even a single step had become difficult for me at this moment. It has been 15 years, a significant period of time, and I have spent it without a father. This fact played in my mind like a movie reel. Tears filled my eyes, causing my vision to blur, and I felt crushed by a heavy weight. However, this was not the first time I stumbled. Walking alone for so many years, I have stumbled at every turn. During that time, there was no one to take care of me. But now, I have learned to walk on my own. I can now pick myself up after falling.

Today, my heart felt peculiar. It was as if a missing piece of my life was about to be discovered. Upon arrival at the hospital, emergency vehicles and ambulances are directed to a designated area near the emergency entrance. This area is marked with clear signage and is easily accessible for quick patient transfer. Trained medical personnel, including doctors, nurses, and paramedics, are stationed at the entrance to receive patients and provide immediate medical attention.

To find the ICU, I followed the markings and signs that were guiding the way from the emergency department. The hospital has strategically placed directional signs throughout its corridors, ensuring that patients and visitors can easily navigate their way to the ICU. Upon reaching the ICU, I approached the nurse's station, desperately seeking answers.

"Excuse me," I hurriedly called out to a nurse, "Is Joseph Anderson here?"

The nurse mumbled my father's name and started looking at something on the computer. Without taking his eyes off the screen, he asked, "What do you think of them?"

"I am their daughter," I said, swallowing hard.

The nurse looked at me strangely, then pointed to one side and said, "Bay 1, bed number 14."

I quickly nodded and entered Bay 1. There, I saw my father lying unconscious, his face bruised and battered. Tubes and machines surrounded him, monitoring his vital signs. The sight was both heartbreaking and infuriating.

"Your father had been brought in earlier this evening, found unconscious on the street behind the bar. The police had been notified, but so far, there were no leads on who could have done this to him." As I arrived, someone informed me. Upon witnessing my father in such a condition, I was unaware of the presence of anyone else besides him. I lifted my gaze and spotted him.

He had a calm and composed demeanor, appearing to be in his late 50s or early 60s, similar to my father's age, with neatly combed graying hair. His face displayed signs of worry and exhaustion, with faint lines etched around his eyes. He was dressed casually, wearing a plain, dark-colored shirt and a pair of jeans. His clothing seemed slightly disheveled, indicating that he had been at the hospital for a prolonged period. He had a lean and slightly hunched posture, as if carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His hands were clasped together, fingers intertwined, revealing a sense of nervousness or anxiety.

His gaze remained fixed on my father, filled with a mixture of concern and hope. Occasionally, he would glance at the medical monitors, seemingly attempting to decipher the information displayed. As I approached, he turned his attention towards me.

"How did all of this happen? Where did you find him?" My mind was filled with questions.

"I'm not sure how it happened. I was busy with my work when one of my waiters came and informed me that three individuals were attacking Joseph on the street behind the bar. I rushed over there." He focused his gaze on my father.

"Was this a random act of violence, or was my father specifically targeted for some reason?" I couldn't understand why anyone would want to harm him. After all, I hadn't seen him in so many years. How could I possibly know what was happening in his life?

"Do you know who those guys were?" I asked, trying to hide my guilt.

"No, I don't know. However, I can confidently say that those individuals were bodyguards of a high-profile person," he replied, deep in thought.

As I stood by my father's hospital bed, watching him lie unconscious and vulnerable, a whirlwind of emotions consumed me. The tears streaming down my face were a mixture of sadness, anger, and resentment. How could he do this to us? How could he abandon us when we needed him the most?

The sight of him lying there, helpless and dependent, should have evoked sympathy and compassion. But all I could feel was a burning anger, a deep-rooted hatred that had been festering within me for far too long. I knew that forgiveness was a virtue, one that could bring healing and closure. But in that moment, forgiveness felt like an impossible feat. How could I forgive someone who had shattered our family, who had abandoned us when we needed him most? The wounds were too fresh, the pain too raw.

As I gazed at his motionless form, I made a silent vow to myself. I would never forgive him for the pain he had caused. I would never forget the nights my mother cried herself to sleep, the missed opportunities, and the broken promises. I would carry this anger with me, using it as fuel to protect myself and my mother from ever being hurt again. I'll just fulfill my duty as a daughter.

[Phone ring]

When the phone rang, I searched for it in my bag and hastily wiped away my tears. I then walked out of the ICU and answered the call.

"Hello," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"What time do you need to be home? It's 2 in the morning." Hearing my mom's worried voice filled me with guilt, as if I were betraying her.

"You should go to sleep, Mom. I'll be home late," I replied, holding back tears. Today, for the first time in my life, I realized that not only being cheated on hurts, but also cheating on someone.

"Late? How long? It's 2 in the morning, Ele. Why aren't the people at your office letting you go?"

"You should go to sleep, Mom, and not worry about me. I'm at Layla's house," I quickly said before hanging up because I couldn't lie to her any longer. I then left a voice message on Layla's number: "If Mom calls, tell her I'm with you, at your house."