Chapter 7:- My father's Debt

"I'm not sure I want to bring him down, love," she said softly, her eyes filled with something I couldn't quite place. "But I do want to help you. I want you to be happy."

I let out a dry chuckle, "You barely know me, and yet you care about my happiness?"

She smiled faintly, her gaze distant, as if looking at something, or someone, far away. "You remind me a lot of my lover. She was just like you."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. There was a rawness to her tone that chipped away at my defenses, even as I tried to keep my walls up.

"I'm sorry about that," I said softly, unsure of how else to respond.

Her lips curled into a bitter smile. "She fell in love with a man and abandoned me for him. They eventually got married, but she died when her husband's enemies came for him."

The weight of her story hit me hard, and I felt a pang of guilt for my earlier distrust. No one deserved pain like that.

"I’m really sorry," I said again, blinking rapidly to fight back tears. Her vulnerability was disarming.

But then, my own pain resurfaced, clawing its way to the surface. "Speaking of abandonment," I murmured, "I’d like to go home. The last I saw of my father... I don’t even know if he’s alive. This whole nightmare started because of him."

She looked at me, her expression softening. 

"You said you’d help me." I reminded her.

She sighed, almost reluctantly. "Alright then, we’ll go to your house first."

Leaning forward, she pressed a button beside her, and a screen lit up, revealing the driver’s face.

"Your orders?" he asked, his tone professional.

"I’ll send you the address," she said, turning to hand me a tablet. "You’ll take us there."

I hesitated for a moment, gripping the tablet. "Why do I have this nagging feeling that you already know my house address?" I asked as I began typing.

She smiled, an expression that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I don’t," she said simply, "but Damon does."

*********

Within fifteen minutes, we arrived at my apartment.

As the car door opened, I stepped out, glancing around. She followed behind me, and I noticed several other vehicles parked nearby.

"Who are these?" I asked, my voice laced with suspicion.

"Securities," she said casually. "It’s safer this way, in case enemies decides to attack."

My heart skipped a beat. "Enemies?" The word hung in the air, chilling me to the core.

One of the security guards approached us briskly, his expression tense. "Don wouldn’t like this idea, Miss Bonnie," he said in a low voice.

She raised a finger to her lips, silencing him with an effortless authority.

We walked toward the door, but as soon as it creaked open, a foul stench hit me like a punch to the gut.

The unmistakable odor of decay filled the air. My stomach churned, and my legs felt weak. 

"I'm afraid your father is dead," Bonnie said, her voice laced with compassion as we stepped further inside.

The stench grew stronger, but my eyes landed on the decomposing body of Chelie, my dog, lying in a heap on the floor.

"It's Chelie," I sighed, a bittersweet sense of relief washing over me. I hated my father, but even so, I couldn't imagine the trauma of finding his body like this.

Bonnie’s hand rested gently on my back. "I'm sorry about your dog, Chelie," she said softly. 

Her voice carried genuine sympathy, but there was also urgency in her tone. "We need to leave before Damon realizes I brought you here."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, casting one last glance at Chelie before nodding. "You're right. Let’s go."

"Before we go," I said, a sudden thought striking me, "there's a CCTV camera in the house. We can check it out and see what really happened that night."

Bonnie’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her expression sharpening with curiosity. "Where is it?" she asked.

I gestured toward the corner of the living room. "It’s hidden behind the bookshelf. The footage should still be there if no one tampered with it."

Bonnie turned to one of the security men. "Get the camera. Bring the entire setup if you have to, but be quick about it."

The man nodded and headed toward the bookshelf without hesitation.

"We’ll watch it on our way," Bonnie said, her tone calm but firm. She glanced at me, her eyes holding a promise. "If there's something to uncover, we’ll find it."

I nodded, my hands trembling slightly. Whatever that footage held, it might finally give me answers, or more nightmares.

They took the CCTV camera, and we left the place.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice uneasy, the thought of seeing Damon again twisted my stomach in knots.

Bonnie glanced at me, her expression calm. "We’re heading to the club. Damon is meeting with his capos there. But first, we’ll stop for some shopping. You need new clothes."

Dread settled over me like a dark cloud. The idea of being anywhere near Damon sent chills down my spine.

I lowered my gaze, feeling a wave of helplessness. I was stuck with this beast, trapped in his world. He scared me more than I cared to admit. For the first time in my life, I truly understood what fear was.

"The footage from the CCTV camera has been sent. Luckily for you, it’s still intact," Bonnie said, holding up a tablet.

My heart leaped at her words. This was it—the chance to see if my father was alive and uncover the faces of those involved in this nightmare.

"Alright then," I said, my voice trembling with anticipation. "Play it."

Bonnie tapped on the screen, and the video began to load. I leaned closer, my pulse racing as the first frame appeared.

The video played, the  footage showing two men dragging my father into the living room, their fists mercilessly colliding with his body. 

I clenched my fists, my breathing quickening as their muffled voices became clearer.

"Don says you owe him a huge amount of money," one of the men sneered, lighting a cigarette. "And you’ve refused to pay. You claimed the money is right here in this house, so bring it out."

My father’s face was pale, his body trembling. "I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money here," he stammered, his voice thick with fear.

The man exhaled a cloud of smoke, looking bored. "Kill him," he commanded, his tone devoid of emotion.

My heart froze.

"Wait! Please don’t kill me!" my father pleaded desperately, his hands clasped together. "How about...how about I give my two daughters to the Don? Perhaps he can use them as he sees fit. Just don’t kill me."

I gasped, recoiling in shock as his words echoed through the vehicle. My chest tightened, disbelief flooding me.

I whispered my voice trembling, "He.... he sold us to save himself?"