Denver Roque Velasquez’s POV (Part 1)
 
"Target locked."
 
I'm damn tired of playing puppet to my old man's whims. It's all on his orders. I fix my sights on the target, finger on the trigger, and squeeze. The shot finds its mark in his thigh. A warning shot.
 
"Harsh move," Daniel mutters by my side, his gaze trailing back to the crumpled figure. "You've got no mercy."
 
"They brought this upon themselves," I let out a low utterance under my breath, taking a moment to reposition myself and re-calibrate my sight for the next target in front of me.  "It's all for a greater cause."
 
As I adjust my grip on the tool in my hand, I focus intently on the task at hand, determined to hit my mark with precision and accuracy.
 
"You could've turned it down, you know. Clyde, your little brother, he's hungry for the throne."
 
"He's still a kid, Dan." I shoot him a look; he's always poking his nose where it doesn't belong. "I won't let him drown in this kind of mess."
 
Walking the path of a gangster is no easy feat, as it involves shouldering the weight of orders handed down by those above us, particularly The Master's commands. It requires constant vigilance and cunning to thwart The Hawk's schemes and navigate through the treacherous world of organized crime. Every move is a dicey gamble, with peril lurking at every turn. Despite the dangers, my hands are tied - there seems to be no other way.
 
One thing is certain: I will do everything in my power to ensure that my brother never sets foot on this deadly path. For even though it may seem enticing at first glance, the reality is that being a gangster is not a game - it's a lifestyle fraught with danger and uncertainty, one that can ultimately lead to our downfall if we're not careful. So I vow to protect my family from this dark underworld, no matter what it takes.
 
"Damn. You've got the whole 'overprotective older brother' thing going on."
 
The brute in question seems to find amusement in our current dire situation, displaying an almost nonchalant attitude towards the perilous circumstances. He manages to let out a laugh. It becomes apparent that this individual is privy to my personal history. Having been witness to my upbringing and sharing a past with me that dates back to our childhood days. Rooted in enduring the grueling training regimen laid out by The Master, which took place in some remote corner of the world.
 
"I was not in his company, despite having returned years ago. He refuses to recognize me as his brother."
 
I squeezed the trigger one final time, sending the bullet hurtling toward its mark. Just as the impact reverberated, my phone erupted into its distinct ringtone – a sound reserved exclusively for a certain individual.
 
“Mission, huh?”
 
Daniel's smirk says it all – he knew. It's my father on the line. The individual who issues directives and masterfully coordinates the actions of his subordinates. A commanding General, standing tall at the apex of his duties. Firm, resolute – a paternal figure who may be stringent, yet simultaneously a dedicated spouse to my mother.
 
What would be my mission this time?
 
"Dad."
 
"Return to base, Denver."
 
His voice reverberates across the firing range, commanding and unyielding. That's him, as always – a bastion of authority.
 
"Roger, sir."
 
The call ends, and I'm left staring at his name on my phone screen – Andrew Derrick P. Velasquez. Even the sound of his name carries an air of command.
 
He has an unresolved bond with The Master that he's determined to untangle. They were once very close, but time and circumstances drove them apart.
 
"The Master’s also summoning me," Daniel switches the topic swiftly right after my call ends, and a nod between us confirms understanding.
 
"Seems like the old man's got an unruly child on his hands," I chuckle, setting my firearm aside and heading for the bleachers to gather my belongings. "Duty calls – father's orders."
 
"Remember, your birthday bash is on the horizon."
 
“You won't be there.”
 
"Such a pity," Daniel's reaction is accompanied by a smirk. "Who knows, you might find a little fling there."
 
"I'm no Dela Fuente."
 
"Pipe down, Velasquez," a voice from the back chimes in. Daniel and I laugh at how Elijah reacted, referencing his fling who left him hanging.
 
We are a group of gangsters, an extensive brotherhood whose origins are intertwined with the legacy shared by our forefathers. The Falcon, a mysterious underground organization, stands as proof of their audacious accomplishments. Our connections go beyond mere companionship and run deep.
 
My closest confidantes among us share familial ties - cousins and distant relatives united by blood and a common objective. There are those who have earned their positions through sheer expertise, such as the recent member Elijah Dela Fuente - a newcomer with undeniable talents.
 
"Gotta go, f*ckers."
 
Our headquarters, situated in close proximity to my house, is no ordinary house but rather a grandiose mansion that reflects the power and prestige of the Velasquez name. In our hometown, we are an influential family with a vast network of agencies dedicated to accumulating knowledge and intelligence. This legacy was left by my father who constructed a stronghold of military intelligence during his time.
 
Today, I have taken on the mantle of The Falcon's messenger - a role that necessitates adroit access to vital information and demands my presence as an adept combatant. A multitasker within our covert domain.
 
“Denver. Mi manchi, hijo.”
 
The mellifluous tone, imbued with a refined and poised demeanor, emanates from none other than my mother. As I cross the threshold into our house, she welcomes me with a loving peck on the cheek. The amalgamation of her Italian heritage and mine results in an exquisite blend of cultures coursing through my veins. In return for her affectionate gesture, I bestow upon her a warm embrace and tenderly kiss both of her cheeks.
 
"Mi manchi anche tu, mamma. Dov'è papà?"
 
"He's in his study," she replies, her worry shows as she thinks about the danger of my missions.
 
"Non preoccuparti, mamma. Starò bene."
 
"Abbi cura di te, figlio mio," she imparts, her words heavy with motherly concern.
 
I nodded at her before I ascended the stairs. I noticed a change in the atmosphere as I approached the door. The previously lively air was now silent, with whispers hinting at a private conversation between my father and someone else. I hesitated but eventually entered to find out what was happening.
 
"Papà?"
 
"Enter," he beckoned, his voice carrying an enigmatic weight. “I have a mission for you.”
 
As anticipated, I asked, "What's the matter?"
 
"It concerns a friend of mine who needs assistance."
 
"A friend?" I raised an eyebrow, understanding the implication. "Mr. Galvosa?"
 
Remaining seated, he maintained his gaze on me before brushing off my comment. "He's not someone in my inner circle, but he's linked to Dominic."
 
"You severed your ties with him, Dad," I reminded him. "He may be my master, but that doesn't give him the right to cast you aside."
 
The Master, Dominic Galvosa, was my superior, and I underwent training under his guidance. I was too young back then to be dispatched solely for training and to assume the grand heir role in the Velasquez family. I used to unquestioningly follow my father's directives, driven by my naivety. But now, I'm doing this for my younger brother.
 
I don't want to inherit the gang, nor will I allow Clyde to become entangled in that perilous line of work. I need to bridge the gap that formed between us during his upbringing. This way, I can do him at least one favor.
 
My father paid little heed to my words. "Marry his daughter."
 
"What in the world!" I blurted out before I could catch myself. My thoughts had consumed me, leading to an abrupt reaction.
 
Marriage? I haven't even entertained the thought of becoming a husband. But I regained my composure, observing my father's response to my outburst.
 
"To whom are you referring?"
 
"The younger Golieza," he stated firmly. He must have some scheme in mind. This implies there are two Golieza individuals, and he wants me to marry the younger one?
 
"I'm not acquainted with her."
 
It was true. I frequently visited the mansion, often stationed at our headquarters or engrossed in missions with the rest of the gang. It's rather unconventional that we operate as a gang instead of agents, but that's our modus operandi. In the realm of underground activities, adopting such a façade becomes essential.
 
"We'll propose to extend our assistance in reclaiming their company while you establish a connection with the younger Golieza."
 
Contemplating the situation, I reasoned that I should stand to gain something, right? While I am dutifully adhering to my father's directive, viewing it as my mission, I also aim to secure some benefits. After all, my own freedom is at stake here.
 
"What will I gain here?" I smirked as I saw him nod, acknowledging what I wanted.
 
"You certainly know how to strike a deal," he said. He stood up, retrieving something from his drawer. "I'll permit you to act as you see fit. I'll also agree to your terms."
 
"Very well, I'll follow your order. Just ensure that Clyde stays clear of this mess," I declared seriously. I was dead serious. Keeping my brother out of this is my utmost priority. I understand the nature of the work I'm involved in all too well.
 
“On your 22nd birthday, they will attend, and I've specifically mentioned the younger one in the invitation. Engage with her and establish a connection."
 
"I'm not even keen on having an extravagant celebration."
 
He glared at me. "The arrangements were made by your mother."
 
"You're completely wrapped around her finger, Dad." I playfully teased, and he sighed, conceding the truth in my jest. "Alright, I'll do as you've instructed."
 
After his dismissal, I departed. Blast it all. I find myself entangled in this mission again. Marriage, huh? I'm willing to bet that Golieza won't be receptive. I'm probably known around here as quite the notorious individual. Unless she happens to be a reclusive one.
 
 
It was undoubtedly my birthday – a grandiose occasion, just as expected from my mother's touch. She spared no effort in creating this celebration. Socializing, my area of expertise, was imperative. Yet, my current presence served a dual purpose: the initial phase of my mission – to locate Golieza.
 
"Mr. Golieza."
 
My brow arched as an individual entered the Velasquez residence. My intention was to acknowledge their role as my target, but I was taken aback by their companion – the younger Golieza.
 
She bore little resemblance to her father; her hazel eyes contrasting his deep brown orbs. A morena beauty, her short hair complemented the dress that gracefully enveloped her voluptuous curves. A captivating fullness adorned her at her tender age. An unexpected allure that ignited an indefinable spark within me. She possessed an enigmatic charm that was utterly unfamiliar.
 
While engaging with the various guests, my attention remained captivated by her. What was her name? Briefly separated from her father's side, I furrowed my brow as I observed her sipping from a glass of wine. Could she be underage?
 
I decided to approach her, my internal debate fleeting. No, I shouldn't let suspicion taint my actions, but then our eyes locked. Her allure reached even from a distance. I averted my gaze effortlessly, fully aware that I had captured her attention. Engaging her father, who was deeply engrossed in discussing some business matters, provided a convenient cover.
 
"She's my precious one," he uttered with a fondness evident in his gaze towards the younger Golieza. Her attention had shifted to the other guests by then, resembling a lost kitten seeking its way. "My younger daughter, Sharmienne."
 
Sharmienne… What a truly exquisite name.
 
Temporarily excusing myself, I embarked on a brief absence to gather more insights about her. I placed a call to my friend and cousin, William.
 
"Gather information about Sharmienne Golieza."
 
"This is quite new." He chuckled over the other line, his amusement apparent through the phone. "Usually, you handle it yourself. What sets this time apart?"
 
"Just get it done, Rivera."
 
"Alright, Velasquez."
 
Returning to my vantage point, I discovered her absence. I surveyed the surroundings, my gaze sweeping across the scene until my attention landed on my parents, joined by Mr. Golieza and Sharmienne. Approaching the group, my mother beckoned me over. I couldn't help but be captivated by her reaction; her surprise led to an endearing stumble. Gotcha.
 
A smile tugged at my lips. This mission promised an intriguing twist. Reclusive and sheltered. Glancing towards my parents, I couldn't help but note their responses. And there stood Sharmienne, right beside me.
 
"You two look good together," my mom commented.
 
"Mom, I didn't celebrate my birthday just to be tied up with someone I barely know."
 
That had been a lie. After all, this was my mission. I stole a glance at her, only to witness her cheeks flushed as her gaze met mine. An unmistakable height difference existed between us, affording me a clear view of her reactions.
 
"Happy birthday."
 
"Thanks."
 
My attention remained fixated on her, even as she engaged in the farewells. I waited, anticipating her eventual glance back in my direction. When she bestowed a smile upon me, the strength of my self-control wavered. Leaning forward, I brushed a kiss against her cheek.
 
"See you, young lady."
 
That had been the plan – to approach her, to ensure she acknowledged my presence. I was fairly certain she wasn't privy to all these intricacies. Apprehension gripped me; I feared she might decline any connection with me. As I watched her departure, my father shot me a meaningful glance.
 
"Stay vigilant," he advised.
 
"I'm fond of her," my mother commented as they departed together.
 
Something felt awry. I was troubled by the idea of her getting entangled in this. What could my father possibly have in mind?
 
I waited for a week, biding my time to devise a new strategy. My intention was to propose to Golieza. I didn't explicitly express my desire to meet her, but my curiosity about her actions gnawed at me. Despite being present alongside my parents during their negotiations with Golieza, my thoughts repeatedly gravitated toward that young lady.
 
"I will reach out to Carmienne," Mrs. Golieza stated, but I rose from my seat.
 
"Allow me, ma'am."
 
She granted a reluctant nod. "It appears you're quite eager to see her."
 
I recognized my underlying motive for being here, yet I refrained from responding, ascending the staircase instead. And there, before me, stood Sharmienne in her casual attire. She appeared remarkably diminutive as her knuckles gently rapped on the door. I feigned ignorance, although I held onto the knowledge I'd gained. Her essentials were familiar to me, including the presence of her stern elder sister, Carmienne. So, they were just two Golieza, then?
 
Observing my parents strike the deal, I couldn't help but notice the favoritism Sharmienne’s mother displayed. She was consistently by Carmienne's side. Dismissing that observation, I directed my focus toward her. It was unfortunate that she wouldn't be involved in this marriage.
 
Yet, I was proven wrong.
 
"Don't involve my sister into this arrangement. I will accept your offer."
 
A chuckle escaped within my mind. She was defying my expectations, choosing the opposite path from what I had expected. Her innocence blinded her to the danger of linking herself to me. Too naive to make that decision.
 
The thought of her agreeing because of the potential benefits of our family's name irritated me. Damn. She was too soft to confront, yet I needed to clarify things now that this mission was beginning. I was prepared to create another plan to keep her out of this mission, but she had agreed, leaving me no choice but to be with her.
 
"I started it, but she will be the one to end it."
 
It was a warning for her. She possesses the power to depart from me, as I wouldn't prevent it. This mission has been entrusted to me. She agreed to it, yet I find myself irritated for no apparent reason. I should be elated to proceed, but I don't want her to become ensnared in my perilous existence. It's excessively dangerous.
 
I delved into gathering information about her. Their company rested in the hands of Mr. Golieza's brother, Jurius Golieza. That's the reason she want this marriage. As time elapsed, I grew acquainted with her, even escorting her to my condo. I conversed with my parents and hers, asserting that I would ensure her well-being.
 
"Ensure you take care of her."
 
"Yes, Mr. Golieza."
 
It was, in fact, my responsibility. I had disclosed my profession to them, a fact they were aware of through my parents. I aimed to reassure them that she was secure in my company. The mistreatment Sharmienne endured from her mother had often puzzled me. My queries were finally answered when I witnessed her shedding tears due to her mother.
 
Damn. I felt helpless as she wept against my shoulder. All I could do was envelop her in a comforting embrace. It was a quite an experience, caring for someone.
 
Regret gnawed at me for uttering that I hated her, when in reality, I didn't. To ensure she didn't contemplate leaving me, I even presented her with a contract.
 
Leave... me?
 
That notion frequently invaded my mind, leaving me plagued with headaches. She started evading me after my declaration of hatred. I wasn't certain if my actions stemmed solely from my mission, yet I discerned a link to Mr. Galvosa.
 
I had been resolute in adhering to the plan, but my mind went blank upon hearing her mention this individual, Dwayne. He was an acquaintance.
 
"She's a fangirl, dude."
 
Daniel told me once when he accompanied Sha to buy school supplies. I'd grow so irritated that I'd shoot him a glare every time he mentioned that guy's name. Sharmienne was even inquisitive about his whereabouts. Damn.
 
"Shut the f*ck up."
 
Daniel quipped, observing my reaction, but I no longer cared. My mind had become too scattered. She even got entangled with Kian Forthaliez, who was involved in spying activities. He was known as a secretary of The Hawk.
 
Dad summoned me while Sharmienne was engrossed in her studies. Perhaps this pertained to my marriage again. They were aware that I was wed to her.
 
"It was meant to be a charade, but you took it too far."
 
"I did it to ensure she wouldn't become a complication," I asserted.
 
"The wedding has been canceled, Denver."
 
I froze. My jaw clenched. But it was too late. I was already bound to her in matrimony.
 
"Dominic is already aware of this," he stated, leaning back in his chair and regarding me sternly. I understood that I had disrupted his scheme.
 
"Why does it matter if he's aware?" I retorted, my desire to confront him unwavering.
 
"She's his daughter."
This… This doesn't feel right. Sharmienne isn't a Golieza; she's a Galvosa. So, my father used my wife to draw out his best friend. Perhaps he was so desperate to reconcile with him that he resorted to this tactic.
 
"Dad... You've gone too far."
 
Damn it! He's been exploiting my wife all along? He's been jeopardizing her safety just to mend ties with The Master? For what? I don't even want to hear his reasons.
 
"Are you becoming too soft, Denver?" he inquired, noticing my intention to depart. "Remember, this is your mission."
 
"I'm resigning, Dad."
 
Walking away from this mission entails significant risks. I should have taken this step a long time ago. Even back then, I shouldn't have consented to this mission, even though I had no choice.
 
There's no use dwelling on past mistakes. I must strategize to prevent Clyde from assuming leadership of The Falcon.
 
“At last, you’re here.”
 
I felt relieved that Sharmienne was getting along well with my friends, even though she appeared a bit shy in their company. She found Elijah to be rather intimidating, while Daniel came across as friendly.
 
"William needs you, bro. He's looking for an update."
 
Ever since I became busier, I couldn't always be by Sharmienne's side. I hadn't even been able to explain to her my playboy past from my younger days. I had put an end to that lifestyle once I married her. I didn't want to set a negative example for her. Entertaining thoughts of infidelity had become outdated. The idea that she could find someone better than me often put me in a foul mood.
 
I observed the changes in myself – how I interacted with her. I found myself becoming more gentle. I was surprised to engage in the activities that couples typically do. Alongside this, a growing fear consumed me – the fear that she might become endangered due to my mission. After what my father disclosed, I couldn't even view it solely as a mission anymore. My primary desire was to care for my wife and be a devoted husband to her.
 
“You’re too good to be kept, Sharmienne.”
 
I am uncertain as to what compelled me to utter those words. I cannot even recollect if it was the first time in which I addressed her by her given name. I have referred to her as 'young lady', but she is not a minor; rather, she is legally bound to me through marriage. Given the immense value that she holds in my heart, I feel an innate desire to protect and keep her within close proximity at all times.
 
I am constantly astounded by my own reactions to her smile, which is undoubtedly my favorite expression of hers. The sparkle in her eyes as she shares her stories and the radiance they exude when she indulges in her beloved hobbies are simply enchanting.
 
Pondering about our interactions, I chanced upon an incomplete portrait of myself that she had created. Her gestures and demeanor around me suggest a mutual attraction, but discovering this portrait made me feel exceptionally cherished. As I continue to find myself incessantly thinking about her, I wonder if she too ponders over thoughts of me.
 
This sensation is new, a deeply unique emotion. I am constrained by the duty to protect her. I draw her near, my embrace enclosing her as I tenderly plant a kiss on her forehead while she rests beside me. Today marks our wedding day and a sense of joy and contentment floods over me.
 
"Non le permetterò di allentare la presa su di me."
 
I will not allow you to slip away. You belong to me, Sharmienne.