The Mafia Emperor s Addiction

"Are you sure that you'll just be fine there, my daughter?" My mom's voice quivered with concern, her worry etched on her face. I could see the lines of anxiety that had formed on her forehead from countless sleepless nights.

I couldn't help but let out a heartfelt laugh, hoping to lighten the heavy atmosphere that enveloped us. My mom's eyes narrowed at me, her worry refusing to fade. "Oh, mother! Yes, I'll be just fine there! You have to believe in me, okay?"

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and I knew that her worry ran deep. Despite my attempts to reassure her, the weight of her concern was palpable in the air. It was at that moment that I realized how much she truly cared.

"Mom, it's me, Lyka Montefranca—your daughter. I'm going to work as a housekeeper in Gustavo's mansion, alright? I understand you worry about me but I'm not a child anymore; I can handle myself," I reassured her by a tender smile gracing my lips.

I was excited about starting my new job as a maid in Gustavo's mansion. Today was the day I would travel there, and I hoped the place would live up to its "humble" description. I had to take three buses to reach there. I know it will be tiring but I was grateful that my job application had been accepted. I thanked God for this opportunity.

My mother's face lit up as she absorbed my words, a gentle smile spreading across her lips. She stepped closer to me, and I anticipated a warm embrace, but instead, she playfully pinched my cheeks. 

Ouch! 

The slight pain only served as a reminder of her love.

"I am your mother, Lyka, and it's only natural for me to worry about you, my dear. I will undoubtedly miss you, my mischievous daughter! Promise me that you'll take good care of yourself there," she reminded me earnestly, and I nodded in response.

Ah, a mother's love truly knew no bounds.

As I turned to resume packing my belongings, a loud shout echoed from the other side of the room. I immediately recognized the voice—it belonged to my father. His deteriorating health had confined him to his bed, leaving him with nothing but frustration.

"Lucia!" His angry roar reverberated through the house. 

"Lucia! Where are you?! You have to come here! I despise this wretched existence!" His tantrums had started again. My mother's expression changed in an instant; she grasped my hands firmly, locking her gaze with mine.

"Ahm, Lyka.… Promise me that you'll take care of yourself, alright? I won't be there to protect you. You made a promise, remember? I'll go to your father," she said hurriedly before rushing toward their room.

With a heavy heart, I continued to pack my belongings. Folding each shirt and item with care, I placed them inside my worn-out bag. This bag held sentimental value—it was the first thing I bought with my hard-earned money.

Just as I was about to zip up the bag and prepare myself to leave, a small hand grasped mine, pulling me back. It was my little brother, Dodong.

"S-sis?" His voice quivered, revealing his hunger and desperation. "Sis, do we have anything to eat? I-I'm so hungry, I need to eat," he pleaded. 

Malnourished and lacking vital nutrients, his eyes bore the unmistakable signs of hunger. My heart nearly shattered, contemplating the life we were trapped in. I pitied him, I pitied myself, and I pitied our family. Dodong was a reminder of our poor circumstances. This was our reality—a life where we were among the "poorest of the poor." Basic necessities, like food, were luxuries we often lacked. We were fortunate enough to have a roof over our heads, but it did little to alleviate the hardships that burdened our existence.

"D-Dodong, hold on," I stammered and searched the pocket of my small bag. I had kept a piece of Rebeco biscuit there, planning to have it as a snack during my commute. But now, I knew my brother needed it more.

“Here, Dong, it's just one. I'm sorry. I'm sure it'll still satisfy your little stomach, right?" I teased, and he managed a weak laugh in response.

Now, happiness sparkled in his eyes. I loved how his facial expression changed because of such small things.

"Thank you, sis! I haven't eaten since yesterday. I just gave the food I found in the trash can to Ate Datdat," he exclaimed between bites of the biscuit, devouring it like a hungry monster.

"...But Ate Datdat won't get sick because of the food I gave her, right? When I found it in the trash, the owner had just thrown it away in a split second. I guess bacteria won't spread that fast, right?" he innocently asked.