There were few contributing factors to my paying further attention to Rico after the mission. He made me curious. Not many things do that. 

May came along and the chilly days melted into rainy ones. Quinton was spending more time with Mira and, as a result, Rose was spending more time at my house. She took quite a liking to Rico and refuses to even look at me unless I allow him out of his room.

They were playing outside most days, kicking around her soccer ball and practicing for games. 

He got her to start calling soccer futbol.

Most days I would argue about this but I have too much work today. The conference is coming up in July and I need to rid the world of Homero before that. If I don't then the other families will not be pleased. I could be banned from the council.

They could try to kill me.

You see, the council is a group of allied crime families in the Americas. There are 6 of us; the Hernandez family, the Romano family, the Stefano family, the Way family, the Murray family and the Duke family. We don't kill each other and the others don't kill us. For the most part.

If you happen to cross one family then you're fair game to the rest. When I kill Homero, I plan to kill his heirs so there will be no more of his line. The Murray's won't like that, Killian Murray and Homero Hernandez have been strong allies and friends for almost half a century when Killian came to America from Ireland. 

I tapped the pen against the table at a fast rate while I tried to think of a way to send a message to Homero. One that will make him believe that I have both his sons and not just the bastard one. 

I need his heir...

A loud bang sounded and I jumped in my chair, the pen falling out of my fingers and rolling across the floor until it was a few feet from the doorway. 

The door, Mary, it was just the door.

Another bang sounded soon after as it opened again. It must be Rico, he always slams the door when he goes anywhere. I wonder, I thought, if he's just like that or if he's taking out his anger on my house.

Anger, my thoughts trailed toward anger. He must be angry. He's trapped here. He hasn't seen his brother in weeks. He can't even check on him. Why didn't he just leave me? Why did he stay? 

I wouldn't have.

I would have left.

Something compelled me to stand up and go to my window, I unhooked the latch so I could hear. 

The scenery was wet and muddy, still Rico was out there showing Rose the most efficient way to kick the ball into a make shift net that had made out of towels and a few long sticks. She took a step back before swinging her leg forward. The ball flew into the net and knocked it over, Rico threw his arms in the air and shouted a prolonged "goal" while Rose did a little happy dance. 

She was never any good at soccer. Or dancing.

"Hey, you two," I shouted through the window, both turned to look at me," Go get cleaned up, we'll go out for lunch."

Rose shouted her usual "yes, yes, yes" and ran into the house in all her excitement, Rico just stared at me with one hand in his pocket and a little smirk on his face.

"What are you doing, Hernandez," I said under my breath so he wouldn't hear.

His smirk turned into a smile and he went into the house to wash off some of the mud and change into a clean shirt that Quinton had lent him.

Something formed in the pit of my stomach and I rushed to my room. I checked myself in the mirror. My hair was in it's natural curls all around my head and I was in a simple, white peasant shirt with a pair of black leather pants and heels. My hand reached for my leather jacket and I checked my lipstick in the mirror. 

Perfect.

Is it?

I was second guessing myself, something I rarely do. I wasn't raised to be confident, I taught myself when I was older, and those old jitters were returning when I thought of his stupid smirk.

The girl staring back at me in the mirror almost looked too innocent for her own good. How does she do that? How can she have killed people so easily and still look like any other young adult who walks the streets, shops and gets coffee with her friends? I was staring at her so long that Rose had to come up and get me.

"Aunt Mary, are you alright?"

"Yes," I shook my head and smiled at her," Yes, I'm just fine. Let's go get Rico."

She took my hand and pulled me down the steps with much to strong for a 10 year old girl. I thought of her mother and a different kind of smile came to my lips, she never could have gotten this kind of strength from her.

Fiona was a beautiful woman, don't get me wrong. She was smart, too. When I first met her I had considered recruiting her as a spy but Quinton stopped me from getting too far with that idea. What he didn't know is that Fiona was the perfect material for a spy, she wasn't just smart, but cunning. Not simply beautiful, but seductive. 

She and I didn't get along too well. We were too much alike for either of our liking. 

Where I take control, she lets it come to her. That's what I hated about her most. I'm glad she looks like her father.

The steps ended and I was facing a freshly cleaned Rico along with an overly excited Rose. We all went outside and Rico and Rose started for my jeep parked out front. 

Isn't it cute that he thought I'd let him drive?

Rose decided that we should all go to Boone's, a bar and grill about 15 minutes away. She loves their American burgers. I do, too.

We all sat down and ordered our food, Rico opted for a beer while Rose got a hot chocolate and I stuck to a cola. Rose burnt her tongue and tried to take a drink of Rico's beer to fix it.

"Why can't I? It hurts!"

"Because it's not a drink for small humans," he told her, moving it an extra few inches form her hands.

"I'm not that small, I'm a whole 2 digits. Come on, Rico, please?"

He looked around him and when his eyes landed on me he shook his head and whispered to her, "Not in front of the warden."

To which she replied, "You're mean."

"I'll go get you a water," I told her standing up, I pointed a finger at Rico," If I catch you giving her any of that, you will not be pleased with the outcome."

He put up his hands defensively and I smiled to myself, knowing very well that when I got to the counter he'd let her take a sip. The waitress behind the bar looked at me expectantly when I approached.

"Can I get a water?"

"Sure," she grabbed a bottle," Cute kid, she your's?"

I looked back at the grimacing little girl who had just tried her first alcoholic beverage and was not happy with it.

"No."

"That's good then," a voice said next to me, I turned to see a tall man with a baseball hat on and an empty beer next to him," 'cause I don't like no baggage."

"Good thing I'm not here for your liking," I told him, taking the bottle and turning. 

"Wait jus' a minute, you," a hand grabbed my ass and I turned around swiftly, my own hang reaching for my gun in my inner pocket.

I didn't have a chance to use it, however. A man was standing next to me and put his hand on my arm to stop my movements. 

Rico.

"I think that's more than enough."