Darius's POV
"No... Not today." I groan in mental torment as my brother lectures me about settling down.
"You are the heir to the throne. You won't be respected if you aren't married. You must have a powerful woman by your side, someone who is feared as well." Zain keeps rambling, his words making my facial muscles tighten in irritation.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, brother? I'm not having this conversation with you." My tone is firm and menacing enough to convince him to drop the subject.
"Fine. But there's a little problem," he says with an uncomfortable shrug.
We're seated in my private home office. It's the size of a regular office but has the security of a safehouse. My pistols and daggers are stashed in different parts of the room. Right now, there's a pistol under my desk, just in case. In my line of work, my enemies multiply by the second, and I trust no one, not even my brother.
"What's the problem?" I ask, leaning toward the desk with my elbows resting on it, my chin perched on my hands. I zoom in on my brother's perspiring face. I can feel his warm breath from where I'm seated. He's scared, probably about to tell me something that might make me reach for the pistol under my desk. "Deep breaths, brother."
Zain nods and takes a deep breath, his eyes twinkling with uncertainty. I hope he hasn't stolen from me because I do not forgive thieves, even after punishing them.
"It's our main debtor. Frank... he's run away again."
Frank. I've kept him on a very loose leash, yet he takes me for granted. Sometimes I wonder why I've been getting cold feet these days. Five years ago, I'd have ended him and his family. But since Dora, my daughter, was born, I've refrained from punishments. These days, it's just threats. Yet these fools take me for granted.
I force a smile, exhaling deeply. "Why do they keep running?" I say through my teeth, trying not to show my anger.
"I think it's his wife, Francesca. She's been responsible for their protection. And I must commend her..."
"Commend!?" I explode, my eyes widening at the word. "You commend her!?"
Zain looks like he's about to wet himself, shaken by my outburst. His mouth tries to form the right words, trembling silently as he stares at me, wide-eyed. "I'm... I'm sorry. But I know their location. We tracked them to California." He quickly adds, earning a raised brow from me.
"They're here? In our state?" My face brightens. "Why didn't you lead with that? I thought they moved to Florida or... Africa. Who knows?" I chuckle, a genuine smile replacing my forced one. "You should work on your grammar, Zain. You meant to say 'they're coming home,' not 'they're running away.' Anyway, has he gambled recently?"
I remember my vow to my daughter, myself, and the members of my mafia. If Frank ever hits the gambling table, I'll personally put a bullet in his hand.
"He hasn't," Zain answers with disappointment.
I'm disappointed too, but more relieved. "Hmm. Why run then?" I wonder aloud, but I'm losing interest in their case already.
"That's not all, brother. The other gangs think we've lost our edge. They expect you to punish Frank. They've refused to pay their dues, saying if you can let someone like Frank get away with his actions, they might as well expect a kiss on the forehead for annoying you."
I can swear by the pistol under my desk that they didn't say all that. My brother is improvising, trying to piss me off.
"No one hurts Frank but me... He was once a friend. Now he's a priest. I've never met someone so intriguing in my life. By the way, he pays monthly and has been faithful."
Zain scoffs in frustration. "He pays you an average of five thousand dollars a month. How's that supposed to pay off sixty-five million dollars? What are you doing, brother?" The disgust in his tone hits me hard. Exactly, what am I doing? Ruining the reputation of my family? Growing soft because I have an angel who understands everything around her? I'm turning over a new leaf to protect my baby.
"Leave him to me. Focus on our other debtors. I'll do what I have to do to protect our reputation, probably send a welcome message to Frank and his wife." I decide on the spot, hoping it makes sense to Zain.
A smile radiates from my brother's face. I'm certain he thinks I'm back. But my welcome message won't be a threat; it'll be a reminder to Frank to stay clean.
"Can I add a few words to the letter?" Zain asks eagerly, hope in his eyes, but I shake my head.
"Didn't you get the memo? Frank is mine, including his life and everything he has. I would say his family too, but I detest his wife with my entire being. And well, he has no children, so... I'll just take Frank." I adjust with disappointment.
Zain doesn't argue. "I wish he had a daughter. We'd take her and make her one of our harems. And if he had a son, we'd make him work his ass off."
The thought of Frank having a daughter and making her my harem does something weird to me. I can't tell if it's disgust or curiosity. It's hard to believe the priest has no children. It's been twenty-one years since he stole from my father. Back then, I was sixteen and pretty pissed about it, especially because my father put the matter in my hands as the first son.
"We're not animals. We wouldn't do that to his child, if he had any. Right... That reminds me. I need a tutor for my daughter, a sensible one this time." I say with a pained expression, my stomach churning at the thought of bringing a new person into my daughter's life, entrusting my five-year-old autistic baby with someone patient enough to teach her.
I haven't found that person yet. All the teachers I've employed have either been too nosy, asking my daughter about our business, stealing stuff, or being impatient with Dora. The ones I've punished are those who were impatient with my daughter. I made them suffer wholeheartedly, with no regrets. By suffering, I mean making it impossible for them to get a job anywhere else. I'm certain if it had been the time before Dora was born, I'd have given them a scar that would forever ruin their lives.
"Errr... That has somehow proven abortive. I don't think we can ever find a good tutor, one good enough for Dora. Maybe you should keep tutoring her..." Zain adds with a chuckle, bringing my attention to him.
"Are you mocking my situation? Are you mocking my daughter?" I demand with a wrinkled forehead, knowing he didn't mean it that way, but too frustrated to consider the obvious.
Fear slips into his eyes, and he swallows, reclining in his seat as I glare at him with an intensity that nearly consumes his soul.
"No... No... Brother. I wouldn't dare. I just... I just know how you hate... books. It was just... that... thought, sir." Zain only refers to me as "sir" when I put his life in danger. This snaps me back to reality and makes me smile.
"Of course, I hate tutoring." I relax, earning a sigh of relief from him. I know it's sad to see my brother so scared of me, but it's who I am. People tremble in my presence. "Which is why we need to find a tutor before I lose my shit. And this time, I want a governess who will reside here, preferably a middle-aged woman."
Zain nods, stifling a chuckle. It's obvious why I'd rather welcome a middle-aged governess into my house. Once I lay my eyes on a young woman, I steal her innocence—no, let me rephrase that—I transform her into someone against her moral compass.
"We'll find you one. But you really need to consider Frank's issue. You need to do something about—"
A soft knock on the door interrupts us. My eyes widen as I know who's on the other side. It's my daughter, Dora. Suddenly, my facial expression softens, my heart palpitating from both terror and awe. I don't want her in the room. For some reason, my daughter is extremely smart and, most importantly, sensitive. This girl once sensed the drugs in my car. I'd been so scared when she told me there was a weird smell coming from the boot of my car.
If she comes into this room, she'll find my gun.
"Oh no... Why's Dora here?" Zain asks, truly mortified.
"See why I need a governess? Say nothing... I'll dial the nanny to find and pull her away." Quickly, I grab my phone and dial the house telephone. The nanny's Spanish accent fills my ears.
"Hola... Hunter's house. Cómo... How can I help you?" She speaks each word forcefully, finding it hard to speak fluently.
"It's me. Señor Darius. Find Dora and cook her dinner... now." I command the woman, and she understands the gravity in my voice. In a few minutes, she finds Dora and pulls her away from the door.
"Maybe we should stop meeting in the house. I know how much you try to protect her innocence from this life." Zain advises, and I know he's right. Except for the fact that I cannot leave Dora with the nanny, even though the poor woman is a sweetheart.
I sigh in irritation. "Just find me a fucking governess before I lose my shit...!"