Chapter 4: Dark Deals

Dmitry, was in his mansion, in his office, doing the usual. The room was dark, lit only by a single lamp on his desk. The walls were adorned with pictures of him with various world leaders and other members of the underworld. A grandfather clock ticked loudly in the corner, seemingly intent on driving him insane. His massive, oak desk was covered in paperwork, guns, and stacks of cash. Dmitry's temper was not at its best today, and every time he got a call from one of his men, he found it harder to contain his irritation. He sighed heavily and picked up the phone. "What is it now?" he growled.

"Boss," one of his men said, his voice confident. "We have the man who's been owing you money."

Dmitry sat up straight in his chair, instantly interested. "Who is it?" he asked, his tone dangerously low.

"It's Abeni's father," the man replied.

Dmitry leaned back in his chair, a cold smile spreading across his face. "Good. Bring him here."

He paused for a moment, savoring the taste of vengeance. Abeni's father had been avoiding him for far too long, thinking he could get away with not paying his debts. But now, it seemed, his luck had run out. Dmitry drummed his fingers on the desk, anticipation coursing through him.

The man on the phone cleared his throat. "Boss, we can bring him here now, or we could wait until tomorrow. It's up to you."

Dmitry considered the options. There was something to be said for making Abeni wait, for letting her stew in her own fear and uncertainty. But he was impatient today, and the thought of having her father here, under his thumb, was too much to resist. "Bring him here now," he yelled. "I want to ask him a series of questions."

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for his men to do his bidding. His mind drifted back to Abeni once more, her defiant stare and sharp tongue echoing in his ears. He couldn't help but wonder what she would say when she found out her father had been caught. Would she beg for his release? Or would she try to stand up to him again? Either way, he knew that he would enjoy seeing the fear in her eyes.

As his men brought Abeni's father into the room, Dmitry sat up straight in his chair, a predatory smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The old man cowered before him, trembling with fear. "Ah, Mr. Oni," Dmitry purred. "It's been such a long time." He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he studied the man. "I trust you remember the debt you owe me?"

Abeni's father nodded, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for some means of escape. "I... I'm sorry, Mr. Kuznetsov. I've tried to pay you back, but I've had no luck. I've been struggling to find work since my business failed." His voice trembled with fear and desperation.

Dmitry raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Struggling? Or making excuses?" he asked coldly. "I've given you enough time, Mr. Oni. It's time to pay what you owe me."

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing into the older man's eyes. "You have two options. You can either find the money yourself, or..." He trailed off, letting the implied threat hang in the air. "Or," he continued, "I can take your daughter instead."

Abeni's father's face paled, his mouth falling open in shock. "No, please!" he begged. "Anything but that. I'll find a way to pay you."

Dmitry smiled cruelly. "I'm glad to hear that. As for your daughter," he gestured to a chair across from him, "why don't you have a seat? We have some things to discuss."

Abeni's father hesitantly took a seat, as one of the men, handed him a picture. It was a photo of Abeni.

"Is this her?" the man asked.

Dmitry nodded, watching the old man's reaction intently. Abeni's father's face twisted with anger and despair as he looked at the picture. "Yes, that's her," he said through gritted teeth. "She's all I have left, my other daughter is sick"

Dmitry leaned back in his chair, a predatory smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you see, your situation doesn't change the fact that you still owe me money. And I'm not one to be put off for long." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Now, I'm going on a trip and when I return I’m going to give you a week to come up with the full amount. If you don't, I'm afraid I'll have to take your daughter's freedom away from her. Do you understand?"

Abeni's father nodded numbly, tears welling up in his eyes. "I understand," he whispered.

Dmitry looked at one of his men and asked "How much does he owe me?"

The man replied "He owes you about one hundred thousand dollars."

Dmitry nodded and then turned his attention back to Abeni's father. "I'm sure you understand the seriousness of the situation," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "I expect you to find that money within the week. You can use any means necessary, but I must have my payment."

As the old man left the room, tears streaming down his face, Dmitry couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers once more.

Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory. "Hello, is this the address?" he asked when a woman answered. "Yes, I'd like to speak with Abeni. Tell her it's about the debt her father owes me." There was a long pause, and then the woman hung up the phone without saying a word.

He smiled coldly as he hung up the phone, the anticipation building inside him. He knew that Abeni would come running into his arms, just as her father had before her. It was in their nature, he supposed. They were all the same: desperate to pay their debts, no matter the cost. And in this world, there was always a cost.