Chapter 7 My Father's Debt

• Anna's POV
• "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?"