Darius's POV
Frank. Frank. Frank. I could laugh all day at this man's disguise and at myself for being fooled all these years, thinking he was a changed man, a real priest. Seeing him at my secretly acquired establishment 'Las Vegas in California', makes me feel extremely insulted. I let out a chuckle as I tilt my head, trying to understand the eyesore of a blond wig on his head, his rockstar black t-shirt, and tattoos running down his arm. He looks scary, but nervous, drawing attention to himself.
I'm cooped up in a corner of the bar, reading him from beneath my cowboy hat. I, too, like to keep a certain type of disguise in public to maintain some tranquility around me.
I dial my brother Zain's number; he and only he can take care of this mess without bringing me to the center of it. I know I'd wanted to drag Frank from the table myself, but not tonight. I'm here undercover, trying to discover the gang head that has chosen to dishonor me by corrupting my staff at the gambling table, conniving with them to steal from me.
Instead of finding him, I find my loving friend and traitor, Frank. Why would he disappoint me like this?
Zain and his men arrive at the table with broad smiles plastered on their faces. As a matter of fact, my brother happily walks to Frank's side and pulls out his pistol from his waist.
"Ha! Look who comes out to play today! The priest, dressed as a rockstar! Woah! Let's see ..." Zain examines the game on the table and lifts an impressed brow. "Man's making money. Here I was thinking he took a break."
Frank, on the other hand, keeps his head low as if Zain isn't referring to him. Damn, I wish I was not in my stupid disguise; I would teach Frank what happens when I'm taken for a fool.
"Please... Let me finish playing. I'll pay your brother as soon as I can," Frank promises my brother quietly, but not quietly enough as there's a microphone on the table directly connected to my AirPod.
Typical Zain lands a punch on Frank's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. I grit my teeth in annoyance—it should be my punch, not my brother's.
Frank raises his hands to block another punch, and I smile mischievously, nodding to Zain to hold off. Disguise or not, I have to handle this matter myself. Perhaps it's time to reclaim my reputation. Dealing with Frank in public shows that I do not show mercy, dispelling any notion that I am weak.
A dangerous soundtrack plays in my head as I stand up from the bar stool, taking long strides to where Frank lies. As soon as he sees my shoes, the golden dragon head buckles by the side of my loafers, he immediately recognizes them, sending him into a state of utter shock. Without saying a word, he rolls to his knees, sobbing maniacally with his head and hands at my feet.
"Please forgive me. Please, I beg you. Please, I'll pay you in full, I swear..." He speaks rushedly, shaking at my feet.
My arms are folded across my chest as I study him with a half-victorious smile. The casino has paused its activities, everyone's attention on us. Whatever decision I make right now will affect my empire in the future.
"Mr. Frank Martins. Wow. How much exactly do you owe?" I ask calmly, yet my voice loud enough to echo in the people- and machine-filled room.
"Errm... Sixty-five million and sixty-two thousand dollars, sir." Frank replies, his head still on the floor.
"Hmm... And what was the agreement?" I ask again, wanting him to know why he is being punished.
"That I pay you an average of five thousand dollars monthly. And that I never gamble for the rest of my life. You said I could run, but I should make certain I pay up, or you'll show me it's impossible to hide from you."
Something shifts in my heart, call it sympathy, but I now feel some regret for finding him here. "And you thought it was a great idea to disobey me?"
"Bastard..." Zain mutters under his breath and spits in Frank's direction, sheer disgust on his face.
"I swear to God that—"
"Prick... I don't need to be a priest to know that it is wrong to swear by God. What kind of fake priest are you?"
"I am not a fake!" he cries out, the pain in his voice shattering my heart. I hate this feeling of sympathy, especially because I'm out in public trying to prove a point. Frank has been clean all these years; something terrible must have happened to pull him back into his old ways.
"Give me a good reason why you're not in church or at home with your annoying wife!" I yell back at him, angry at him for putting me in such an awful position.
"She is sick! She has cancer! I'm desperate! If I don't get the money, she dies!" he screams at me, looking me in the eyes, grief replacing his fear of me. "I will not let her die..." he adds with menace in his voice, earning whispers from the customers in my casino/bar.
I want to let him go so badly because I believe him. Knowing how much he loves Francesca, I know he would revoke his religion to save her.
You should never have come here, Frank, I say with my eyes. "You've crossed me; now you'll have to pay..." I say simply and glance at Zain. "How much has he won?" I demand effortlessly.
"Five hundred thousand..." Zain answers with a sly smile, aware of what will happen next.
"Amazing, seize it! Deduct it from his tab. See, he's paying us back."
"No, no... Please... No, I need the money. I need it, please... I'll do anything. I swear I'll do anything. I'll work for you, I'll give you anything." Frank cries desperately, now grabbing the hem of my denim pants and begging like his life depends on the money.
Anything. Except for the fact that Frank has nothing. "You have nothing to give, Frank. Zain! Take him to the family dungeon!" I order, trying not to blink in agony as I pronounce my order.
"No! No! Please! I do have something... I have something. It's more than money, I promise..." he offers in tears, fighting back as my brother and his goons try to pull him away from me.
There's seriousness in Frank's eyes as he declares he possesses something more valuable than the huge sum of money he owes my family. I make a motion with my index finger for my brother to release his hold on Frank. Then I walk closer to the older man, taking off my hat so he can have a clearer look at my face and know that I'm not in the mood for jokes.
"Frank. Do you realize how you got to owe this money in the first place?"
He nods eagerly, regret in his eyes.
"Tell me," I command him with a dangerous snarl on my face that almost makes him lose his breath.
"We... We stole from you. Francesca and I. We betrayed you and hijacked the money from one of your mules. Then I lost it in a gamble, all of it." He confesses in shame, unable to keep his gaze on mine.
"Now tell me. What is this thing you think can pay off your debt?"
He refuses to answer.
"Frank? Do not play dumb with me now. I asked you a question and I expect you to answer..."
Zain gives Frank a motivating punch to his side, one that earns a deeply rooted wail. I'm worried about Frank, and I mean it. I'll probably go check on his wife later. It's annoying how having a daughter has made me soft. Sometimes I wish I never had Dora. She's a blessing, but also a curse.
"Ignore my question any further, and I'll hurt you myself."
Frank's gaze meets mine at my promise, knowing my definition of hurting is a hundred times worse than Zain's. He nods apologetically to me and swallows.
"She's my treasure."
Treasure. She. I'm certain not just I, but my brother and the hundreds of customers around us are confused as well.
I rub my eyes in frustration, feeling as though Frank is stalling, messing with me.
"What are you talking about?" I ask impatiently, a scowl on my face.
"I... I... I have a daughter."
My heart stops beating; the world slows in its pace. I want to hit Frank so badly for putting his daughter up for a bargain in this type of situation. Whatever made him hide her all this while should have been his priority. Right now, this man disgusts me beyond repair. Without thinking, I throw a punch to his face, the force pulling him out of Zain's grip and the other men that held him. My sympathy for him has been sucked away. Perhaps it's because I know he doesn't deserve to be a father, as I will protect Dora with my last breath. I will tear down my empire for her.
"Where is she?" I manage to ask with spikes in my tone.
Frank, who is trying to gather himself from the ground, spits out blood and shakes his head in shame. "Home. Upstairs. In her room."
A small smile curves on my brother's lips, almost like he expected this turn of events.
"Should we bring her to you, brother?" Zain asks me with so much eagerness that disgusts me even further.
"We'll go together. Keep him in the family dungeon. I want him to sign the documents for transfer of possession. I want him to look his daughter in the eye, and tell her the reason for her capture."