We will pay.

Outside the casino, Jerry and Mark stood in the chilly night, their expressions tense. Jerry paced restlessly, his eyes glued to the entrance. Mark, though outwardly calmer, scanned the street nervously.

"There he is," Jerry muttered, spotting a man emerging from the building.

Mark straightened, his gaze locking on the figure as he approached.

"Follow me," the man instructed curtly, wasting no time.

Relief mixed with dread washed over the brothers. At least now they were one step closer to finding Emily. They trailed the man into the casino, stepping into a whirlwind of activity. The air buzzed with the hum of slot machines, the clatter of roulette wheels, and the chatter of gamblers engrossed in their games.

Their guide moved swiftly, navigating the maze of glowing tables and bustling crowds with ease. They passed a sleek bar where a bartender mixed cocktails with practiced flair, the laughter of patrons mingling with the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

Finally, the man stopped at an unassuming door tucked away near the bar, a small "Authorized Personnel Only" sign affixed above it. Producing a keycard, he swiped it through the reader, and the door opened with a soft click.

The brothers followed him into a narrow, dimly lit corridor, its dark walls stark and uninviting. The air here was cooler, quieter—a sharp contrast to the lively chaos of the casino floor.

At the end of the hallway, the man stopped in front of a door marked *Private Office*. He knocked twice, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness.

"Enter," commanded a low, gravelly voice from within.

The man opened the door and gestured for Jerry and Mark to step inside. They did so hesitantly, their eyes adjusting to the dimly lit space. The office was spacious yet oppressive, its dark wood furnishings and muted decor exuding an air of cold authority. Behind a massive desk sat a figure who could only be Digzy. His piercing eyes locked onto the brothers as a tense silence settled over the room.

"Mark Bendilani, eldest son of Alice and John Bendilani—what brings you to my humble office?" Digzy said with a sly smile, his piercing eyes glinting with intrigue.

Mark returned the smile politely. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Bigoli."

Digzy leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "How have you been? Let me think—has it been two years now since we last crossed paths?"

Mark nodded. "Yes, two years. Time flies."

Seated at the table, Emily's heart shifted from despair to a strange mix of hope and confusion. Relief swept over her at the sight of Mark and Jerry, but questions quickly followed. How had they found her? And why did Mark seem so familiar with this dangerous man? She watched as Mark and Digzy exchanged pleasantries, leaving her both comforted and puzzled.

The brothers had pulled every connection they had to track Emily down, leveraging Joel's vague ties to Digzy. Now, sitting before the man who had haunted their search, they finally saw her—a tear-stricken, fragile figure at the table. Jerry's heart sank at the sight of her sunken eyes and trembling hands. Mark, however, masked his emotions, staying focused on their task.

"Allow me to introduce my brother," Mark said, gesturing toward Jerry, who was still staring at Emily. "Jeremiah Bendilani."

Startled, Jerry snapped out of his thoughts as Digzy extended a hand. With a soft nudge from Mark, Jerry shook it. "Nice to meet you," Jerry said, his voice stiff with restrained emotion.

"The pleasure is mine," Digzy replied smoothly, gesturing toward the empty chairs. "Please, have a seat."

The brothers settled on either side of Emily, creating a protective barrier around her. Jerry leaned closer to her, his silent presence radiating comfort, while Mark maintained his collected composure.

"Let's not waste any more time," Mark began, his voice calm but firm. "We're here because of her." He gestured toward Emily.

Digzy tilted his head slightly, a faint smile still playing on his lips. "And what business do you have with her?"

"She's our sister," Mark replied, choosing his words carefully to avoid escalating the situation.

Digzy raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Your sister? I didn't know the Bendilanis had another daughter."

"Not by blood," Jerry interjected. "A close friend who became family."

"Ah," Digzy said, nodding slowly as he leaned forward. "I see. Well, this sister of yours has an… issue. She owes me quite a substantial amount of money—60 million shillings, to be exact."

"Sixty million?" Jerry exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief. He turned to Emily, his face a mixture of shock and concern. "Emily, how? What did you do?"

Emily's gaze dropped to her lap, fresh tears welling in her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to answer.

Mark, though equally shaken by the amount, kept his composure. His sharp mind raced as he pieced together the situation, but he showed no sign of his internal turmoil. "Sixty million," he repeated, his tone measured. "That's… quite a sum. How did this come to pass?"

"It's not her fault," Digzy said, his voice carrying an edge of mockery. "Her only fault is being her father's daughter. After all, doesn't even God say children will pay for the sins of their parents?" He let out a cold, sarcastic laugh. "Her father owes me money, money he can't pay. So, here she is, paying the price for his sins."

Mark's jaw clenched, but he kept his voice steady. "Consider me collateral. Stop hunting her down. If the money isn't paid, you'll know exactly where to find me."

Digzy leaned forward, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "Deal. So, when do I get my money?"

"One month," Mark replied firmly. "I promise you'll have the full amount."

Jerry and Emily sat in silence, letting Mark take charge. The weight of the conversation was too much for either of them to handle.

"Good, then," Mark said, standing up. "I guess we're done here."

Digzy rose as well, extending a hand with a sly smile. "Nice doing business with you, Mark. I'm convinced you won't disappoint me."

Mark shook his hand firmly, his expression unreadable. With a quick nod to Jerry and Emily, he signaled for them to leave. They stood and exited the room quietly, Mark following close behind.

Just as he reached the door, Digzy's voice stopped him. "Mark."

Mark turned, his hand still on the doorknob.

"I'm sorry about your mother," Digzy said, his tone sincere. "But I must admit, I'm disappointed. How could you let your little sister take what's rightfully yours?"

Mark smirked, a calm defiance in his eyes. "You're mistaken. It belongs to her, and she deserves it." Without waiting for a reply, he shut the door behind him.

***

By the time they stepped out of the casino, the night was thick, the streets nearly deserted. Mark glanced at his watch—it was 11 p.m. "We need to come up with the money as soon as possible," Jerry muttered, halting their steps just outside.

Mark paced, pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand resting on his hip. " I had all my accounts freezed so I can't withdraw any money for the next 3 months. But when Becky and I were planning to settle down," he began, his voice heavy with emotion, "we saved 25 million shillings to buy a flat. I still have it. That'll be our starting point."

"I've managed to save 10 million shillings over the past year," Emily said softly. "That's all I have."

Jerry clapped his hands together, his optimism cutting through the tension. "Perfect! That's 35 million already. And I've got 15 million saved for my own flat."

Mark turned to Jerry, pride evident in his eyes. For all Jerry's usual immaturity, this moment showed a depth Mark hadn't expected. "Jerry," he said warmly, his tone full of respect.

Emily, however, looked stricken. "You boys shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, guilt etched into her face.

Jerry cupped her face gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Emily, listen to me. Look at me," he repeated firmly. "We're in this together. You're not alone."

Their gazes locked, the intensity of the moment drawing them closer. Jerry leaned in, and Emily didn't pull away. Just as their lips were about to meet, Mark's exasperated sigh broke the moment.

"Not again," Mark muttered, rolling his eyes. His tone dripped with sarcasm, but his words were enough to snap them out of their trance.

Clearing his throat, Mark walked past them, clapping Emily on the shoulder as he passed. "Anyway, it's not even your fault," he said. He strode toward the street, where Jerry's car was parked. "You two ride together. Let's meet at home," he called over his shoulder, his voice rising slightly as he climbed into the car.