Daddy's Bargain

Washington D.C. –Midnight. A private cigar lounge in Georgetown

    Azrael tapped ash into a crystal tray, thinking briefly that the lounge was not up to his taste as he looked down at the stockily built man that brought him there.

“It's nice to see you sir, I—”

“I believe you have my five million dollars.” Azrael said coldly. “Or else explain why you gave my men up. I got a report that two of my men were killed.”

Senator Rivera did not answer right away. His hands were visibly trembling and his palm was beginning to effusely sweat as he reached for his glass of scotch.

Azrael watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. He hated weakness in men, especially ones who wore expensive suits and made promises they couldn't keep. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still trained on the fidgeting old man.

“I—I had to save myself, the police were about to catch up with the arms warehouse, and I had to give them up. Sir…the five million dollars, I'll pay it. It's just that—”

Azrael glared at the greedy old man. “How dare you think the lives of my men are interchangeable with yours? They were my family. They were mafia” For a minute it looked like he would beat up the old man. “You've had six weeks,” Azrael began, almost bored. “And still nothing. Why are you shaking? Is the temperature not right, or are you afraid I'll kill you?” 

The other man gave a shaky smile and opened his mouth to speak, even as he tried to hide his shaky hands. “It's not that Sir, it's just been a hectic week with the elections around the corner and—”

Azrael shook his head, and hissed, then stood up. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit but there was no tie. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves rolled to his elbows both revealing a scary amount of tattoos on his hands and his chest, all the way to his collarbone.

“Excuses, all excuses Senator. You came to me begging for a loan to win the elections four years ago. Now, it's time to pay up and there are issues? Not only that, you let my men be killed. You know the penalty is death. Blood for blood?” Azrael asked rather calmly.

The Senator swallowed hard. “I–I just need more time.” 

Azrael laughed once, the sound was a terrifying rumble, his eyes which were gray like a storm were fixed on the Senator.

“Time is a luxury I can no longer afford. You knew the risk of asking a mafia lord for money. Imagine the scandal and that is only if you survive what I'll do to you.” Azrael's face looked like it was cut from cold marble at that moment, all the more enhanced by the scar that ran from the corner of his lip to his chin.

Rivera looked away, no longer able to hold his glare, but Azrael snapped his fingers. “Look at me when I talk to you.”

The older man's head turned like it weighed a thousand pounds. 

“Your family name,” Azrael said, tapping his ring against his glass. “Your title, your power, none of it means anything in my world. You come here in debt, you leave owned. In some ways I know you knew when you were calling in all those favours during your tenure.”

“I'll pay,” Rivera croaked, he was desperate now. “I swear just give me another…. another month.”

“Which of your fingers will it be?” Azrael asked walking towards the Senator like a predator who already had its prey. A small yet shiny knife danced around his fingers.

“N…no…I…I…please…” The senator sputtered breathing heavily now. 

Azrael smirked in satisfaction. He loved to see his preys quake in fear. “Well, you're in luck. I'm feeling generous tonight.” 

Senator Rivera blinked, he was beginning to feel hopeful. “Thank you…I…I promise I'll pay back. Thank you—”

Azrael stopped right behind him, flipping the knife shut, then he leaned down and whispered. “Give me your daughter.”

The older man flinched and his left eye even twitched. “Wh…what?”

“I do not repeat myself, old man…” Azrael scowled.

The old man rambled on not sure what to make of his ever worsening situation. “But sir…she's engaged, and I—”

“Not anymore.” Azrael cut him off smoothly then walked back to his seat. “I had that little arrangement handled. Her fiancé's family got scared off after I made a few calls. Turns out some men know when to fold.”

“What? When? How?” Senator Rivera was getting confused and annoyed.

Azrael laughed to himself as he poured himself another drink. “She made an impression, a rather rude one. No one turns me down.” He smiled and nodded to the Senator. “Do you know how rare that is?”

Rivera swallowed hard. “She didn't mean to offend you—”

Azrael cut him off with a look. “I don't care. She bruised my ego and the moment I found out she was your daughter. I knew she was already mine. I have a couple lessons to teach her.”

“She's not a part of this,” Rivera whispered, his chubby hands clenching into fists. “She's a good girl, she doesn't deserve a life like yours. She's not like—”

“I know exactly what she is. Your way out of debt and death.” Azrael cut in harshly rising again. He placed a tablet on the table and slid it across to the wide eyed older man. “That's the agreement. You sign this and your debt disappears.”

Senator Rivera stared at the tablet like it might physically attack him. Was he really going through with selling his daughter to save himself? He wondered.

“I'll give her everything you already provide.” Azrael said, his eyes dancing with mock sweetness. “Designer clothes, Diamond collars, everything she needs to look like a pretty little pet.”

Senator Rivera muttered. “You bastard.”

Azrael's smile vanished. He leaned across the table, his face dangerously close to the Senator's. “Say that one more time and I'll cut off your tongue.” He threatened. “ You sold her the moment you walked in here because no matter how much you act like a good father, you'll put yourself first.”

Rivera looked like he wanted to fight, but fear kept him mute. His hand shook as it danced over the screen of the tablet, signing the document. 

“Soon they'll announce the end of the engagement. She has to think the engagement ended because of politics. Let her believe it for now.”

When the older man was done, Azrael locked the tablet and put it away then lit a cigar. “Good boy.” he mocked. “I really want to know what a senator's feisty daughter sounds like when she begs.”

Rivera was shaking with anger and he shot up from his chair, briefly forgetting his anger. “You son of a—”

A

Azrael frowned. “Sit down Rivera.” His gray eyes flashed with annoyance as he adjusted on the chair, showing his gun coyly to the old man.

Then Senator Rivera, the big man that he was, began to cry.