Page 119 of A New Days Don

“Good,” He sounds pleased.

Not a minute later, my father walks in. He looks tired and worn down, but he keeps his glare on the three men.

“What is all of this?” My father asks, and I shift with discomfort.

I haven’t seen footage or photos of my father since he passed. This one looks recent.

“I thought we were here to make a deal, Thiago. Man to man. Why the hell is my nephew and a cop here?” My father doesn’t let it show, but I can tell by the glint in his eye, the same one he gave me when I left the city, that he is worried.

This was a setup.

Thiago never had gentleman’s honour, and this day was no different.

“Well, you’ll see, Leonardo, that I always get what I want. I don’t want to negotiate. I want access to Vegas.” Thiago growls, “After everything you did to my father, it’s the least you can do.”

My father opens his mouth to speak, but Fabio sways into the camera. Is he fucking drunk?

“Enough of this!” Fabio slurs, stepping toward my father, “You are nothing, Leo. You have kept me at arm's length for the better part of a decade. All you want is your prized son to come back and take your throne… Well, guess what, he ain’t here to save you.”

“Fabio. Stand the fuck down.” Thiago growls, clearly, this wasn’t a part of the plan, but when Fabio pulls out his gun, I know what happens next. I don’t let my eyes stray from the screen. I force myself to sit through every last moment with my father as the bullet flies across the room, nailing him in the heart.

My father’s brown eyes widen. He stumbles before slumping down. His olive skin quickly turns a sickly pallor, and the room erupts in ruckus, but I don’t tear my eyes or attention from my father as he mouths something to the camera. He must have known it was there.

I love you, son.

His last words were silent, but they fucking hit me straight through the heart as if I was the one being struck by the bullet instead of him.

His eyes roll to the back of his skull. He died right there, in the mess of people arguing, yet his last words and thoughts were of me.

I slam my fist down on the glass desk, nearly shattering it.

“Well, we'd better fucking send a message then. Fucking dumbass!” Thiago snaps at Fabio, “Cut his head off, we are mailing it to Massimo.”

“What?!” Fabio shrieks, “He’s going to come here if we do that.”

“Are you fucking afraid? You should have fucking thought about that then.” Thiago takes a hatchet, and with a few clean cuts, he cuts my father’s head off. “This better be delivered by the end of the night.”

Vicek looks a little pale as he turns to Thiago, who is now drenched in my father’s blood, “Our deal is still on, right?”

Thiago’s lips pull back, my father’s blood drips into his mouth and coats his teeth red, “Of course, you continue raping and killing all your little sex workers, and I won’t release the footage of you raping that girl in the back of La Cochon Rouge. But you'd better continue to keep up your end of the bargain and make sure all my dealings in Sin City go unnoticed and untraceable.”

Footage.

My stomach recoils.

That was the same place Mila had been assaulted.

Thiago has footage of her being raped. Footage that should have been given to the police, but instead he kept it for himself for blackmail.

I exit the video, looking for Mila’s blue dot, but it is no longer at the department. She is on the expressway. Well past my condo. Well past my house on the outskirts of the city. She is headed into the middle of the desert.

There is a ping on my computer. I open the file sent to me using a quick decryption method.

Maid. They have the results. I quickly skim the document, pausing when I see the confirmation I never needed. Not with that footage confirming everything.

DNA Under Fingernails: Richard Vicek (84%)

DNA from Sperm: Richard Vicek (93%)