Dragon clan

The room buzzed with a faint, yellowish glow as a man, face obscured by shadows, stepped forward. He deftly removed a cloth covering a series of wooden boxes, revealing an array of concealed weaponry. Francisco approached the boxes, his eyes narrowing with a calculation.

With a precision that hinted at a routine, the man used a grubber to unlock the wooden boxes.

Francisco leaned in, his eyes scanning the weaponry with a practiced gaze. Among the arsenal, he spotted the familiar form of an AK47. Without hesitation, he reached for it, checking its mechanisms with a silent nod of approval.

"Boss, we've got more new arrivals," Liam's voice cut through the air as he pried open another box.

The room revealed yet another cache of arms, each one meticulously chosen and stowed away for clandestine purposes.

Francisco, now surrounded by the arsenal, assessed the new acquisitions with a discerning eye. He reached out to touch the cold metal, his mind calculating the strategic advantage each weapon could offer.

"We need to be careful," Francisco declared, breaking the silence.

"Now, half of these arms need to make their way to Georgia."

Liam nodded in agreement.

 "Contact the local dealers," Francisco instructed, his tone leaving no room for error.

"Yes, boss," Liam affirmed, his fingers already dancing across a sleek device as he prepared to execute Francisco's command.

Francisco emerged from the dimly lit room, leaving the clandestine arsenal behind. Without a moment's pause, he strode purposefully to his waiting car, the night air thick with secrecy. Behind him, the responsibility of dealing with local arms distributors fell to Liam.

As Francisco settled into the driver's seat, the engine purred to life. He didn't linger, his mind already occupied with the unfolding plans.

Meanwhile, Liam, foregoing the journey back to the office, set his course for the local area. The payload of drugs in his possession was destined for the unsuspecting hands of teenagers, a sinister strategy to infiltrate the local population.

As Francisco navigated the city streets towards his office, his phone abruptly interrupted the quiet hum of the car. He answered with a brisk, "Yes."

At the other end of the line, a voice spoke, "Francisco, it's me, Lilith."

The name resonated with a weight that transcended mere recognition; Lilith was the daughter of the head of the notorious Dragon clan.

"Lilith," Francisco acknowledged, his tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

"How can you remember me?"

Francisco chuckled, the sound carrying a wealth of shared memories.

Lilith's voice carried a weight of concern as she uttered the words, "My papa's condition is not well. And you also know he trusts you so much."

Francisco, known for his stoic demeanor, remained silent.

 The mention of Lilith's father, the one person who had extended a comforting hand during Francisco's own time of grief after his father's death, stirred emotions beneath his calm exterior. Despite their complex history, Lilith's father had been a silent ally, leaving a profound impact on Francisco.

"He wants to see you," Lilith pressed on when no immediate response came from Francisco.

After a brief pause, he relented with a simple, "Okay, I am coming."

"Please come home," Lilith's voice carried a touch of relief, a subtle undercurrent of gratitude.

The call ended, and Francisco found himself drawn into a past he couldn't fully escape.

The mansion of Lilith loomed ahead, a place of both tension and unexpected camaraderie.

In Lilith's mansion, she made her way to her father's room.

 Lilith took a seat beside her father, clasping his hands with a slight smile.

Lilith's father lay in bed, a ventilator mask obscuring his features as he breathed slowly.

"He is coming," Lilith's words floated through the air, carrying a subtle excitement. Mr. Victor, her father, observed her with a slow blink, the weight of the moment etched in the lines of his face.

Lilith leaned down, pressing a kiss to her father's hand, her voice a soft murmur, "He will manage everything. He will not say no to you."

Mr. Victor, his gaze fixed on his daughter, acknowledged her support.

"You support him so much; he will help you in your bad situation."

An hour later, the anticipated sound of Francisco's arrival echoed outside the mansion.

The purr of his car's engine came to a halt, and Francisco stepped out, buttoning his coat with a measured grace. The guards, acknowledging his presence, guided him toward the entrance.

In the drawing room, Lilith awaited, her anticipation evident in the way she descended the stairs with a radiant smile. It was clear that she was more eager for Francisco's arrival than her father's.

"Francisco!"

 Lilith's voice rang out, a greeting filled with both warmth and expectation. Francisco halted, his gaze meeting hers, but he offered no immediate response. Instead, his focus cut through the pleasantries.

"Where is your father?" he asked directly, his tone revealing the urgency that often accompanied their clandestine dealings.

Lilith's eyes, once sparkling with anticipation, hesitantly lowered as Francisco deliberately ignored her, leaving a subtle pain in its wake. Despite the unspoken tension, she nodded slightly, accepting the complex dynamics that accompanied their interactions.

"He is in his room," she informed Francisco, a quiet invitation in her words.

 "Come with me."

 Gesturing to the guards to leave them, she led Francisco up the grand staircase to the second floor.

The door creaked open, revealing the room where Mr. Victor lay under the watchful eye of a nurse. Lilith, her presence commanding yet tender, gestured for the nurse to leave, creating a space for a private exchange between father and daughter and the unexpected visitor.

Francisco entered the room, his steps measured. Lilith closed the door behind them, creating a temporary sanctuary within the walls of Victor's space.

As Francisco took a seat beside Mr. Victor, the fragility of the moment unfolded.

"How are you, Mr. Victor?" he inquired, genuine concern etched into his features.

 Victor smiled, a gesture that carried both gratitude and the weight of unspoken bonds.

Extending his hand, Victor's grasp found Francisco's, a connection that spoke volumes. Francisco, without hesitation, clasped Victor's hand.

"I am okay," Victor replied in a low tone, his voice carrying the echoes of resilience.

"How are you?"

 Francisco asked, his voice a gentle murmur that hovered in the air.

The truth hung unspoken in the air — Victor was suffering from lung cancer, a cruel reminder of mortality in its final stages.

Lilith stood near the bedside, her eyes fixed on her father, Mr. Victor, as he lay in the grip of his illness.

"What happened, Mr. Victor? Why did you call me?"

"I just want to see you, Francisco," Mr. Victor replied, his voice trembling with the frailty of his condition. 

"Also, I need an urgent discussion." 

The gravity of the situation was reflected in his words, and Lilith, sensing the weight of the conversation, spoke in a low tone, "You guys talk."

As Lilith quietly left the room, the door closed behind her, leaving Mr. Victor and Francisco alone in the quiet space. Victor turned his gaze towards Francisco, the lines of his face etched with the undeniable truth of his condition.

"Francisco, you can see I have no days left in my hands. My death is knocking at my door," Victor confessed, his words hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

Francisco clasped Mr. Victor's hand tightly, his attempt at offering comfort, "Mr. Victor, everyone is trying hard. Don't give up." 

Victor managed a slight smile, acknowledging Francisco's attempt to console him.

 "It doesn't suit you, Francisco."

Victor, in his weakened state, saw through the façade of comfort, recognizing that such gestures were not Francisco's typical way of navigating the world.

Francisco lowered his gaze, absorbing the weight of the words.

"And still, you are doing formality with me."

"Call me uncle," Mr. Victor insisted, his voice carrying a mix of affection and a desire for familiarity.

Francisco offered a slight smile, acknowledging the request.

. "Yes, Uncle. But I will say for you to smile till your last breath." The attempt to inject a note of optimism into the conversation was met with a nod from Victor, a silent understanding passing between them.

"Francisco, I want you to hold the authority of my clan. I know Lilith can't do it alone," Victor revealed, his gaze fixed on Francisco.

"Uncle, Lilith is a strong woman. She can do it, and I will support her."

"No, Francisco. She is still so naïve. You don't know her. I want you to take the authority," Victor insisted.

You don't have to tense with it. We all will handle it," he assured Victor, attempting to alleviate the burden of the impending transition."I know you will," Victor responded with a smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and trust.

However, the atmosphere shifted as Victor, with a soft voice, uttered Francisco's name. "Francisco!" he called, drawing the younger man's attention.

"I have another thing I want from you," Victor confessed, his gaze fixed on Francisco.

"Please say it."

"Will you marry my daughter?"

Francisco met the proposal with an expressionless look, his thoughts veiled beneath a stoic exterior.

"Will you?"

 Victor asked again, the hope in his eyes evident, as if seeking reassurance for a future beyond his own.

"Uncle," Francisco finally spoke, the word carrying a weight of respect.