Asking For Help.

Dad and Grandpa exchanged a glance, their expressions hardening as they realized the urgency of the situation. "We need to act fast," Dad muttered, his voice low but filled with determination. "If we wait too long, Thomas will slip through our fingers."

Grandpa nodded, his sharp eyes narrowing as he leaned on the table. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Dad's lips curved into a grim smile. "Yes. It's time to call in a favor."

Otim, still seated at the table, looked between them, his confusion evident. "What are you planning?"

Dad and Grandpa didn't answer immediately. Instead, they stood in unison, their movements synchronized in a way that spoke of years of mutual understanding. "Follow us," Dad said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Otim hesitated for a moment, then rose to his feet, trailing behind them as they exited the boardroom. The trio moved swiftly through the hallway, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. They stepped into a private elevator, the doors closing with a soft hiss as they descended to the underground parking lot.

Dad's car was waiting, sleek and black, its engine purring softly as they climbed inside. Otim sat in the backseat, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, while Dad took the wheel and Grandpa settled into the passenger seat. The car zoomed out of the parking lot, its tires screeching against the asphalt as they sped through the city streets.

The drive was tense, the silence in the car heavy with unspoken thoughts. Otim stared out the window, his mind racing as he tried to anticipate what was coming next. He had no idea where they were going or what they were planning, but he knew better than to ask. He had already placed his fate in their hands.

After about half an hour, the car came to a stop in front of a familiar building—the very casino where Emily, Mark, and Jerry had been before. The neon lights of the casino's sign flickered in the night, casting a garish glow over the entrance. Otim's eyes widened as he realized where they were.

"Digzy's casino?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dad didn't respond. Instead, he stepped out of the car, his expression unreadable as he adjusted his suit jacket. Grandpa followed as they made their way to the main entrance. Otim trailed behind, his heart pounding in his chest.

The bouncer at the entrance recognized Dad and Grandpa immediately, his stern expression softening into one of respect. "Mr. Bendilani," he said, nodding as he stepped aside to let them through. "This way, please."

The bouncer led them through the bustling casino lobby, past the flashing lights and ringing slot machines, to a door just next to the bar. He pulled out a key card, swiping it through the reader before pushing the door open. "Digzy's office is at the end of the hall," he said, stepping aside to let them pass.

The corridor beyond was dimly lit, the walls lined with dark wood paneling and framed photographs of Digzy with various celebrities and politicians. Otim followed Dad and Grandpa, his unease growing with every step. He had heard stories about Digzy—the kingpin of the city's underworld, a man who commanded fear and respect in equal measure. What were they doing here?

At the end of the hall, they reached a heavy wooden door. The bouncer knocked once, then opened it, stepping aside to let them enter. Inside, Digzy's office was a stark contrast to the glitz and glamour of the casino. The room was spacious but sparsely decorated, with a large desk at the center and a few leather chairs scattered around. Digzy himself sat behind the desk, his sharp eyes narrowing as he looked up from the papers in front of him.

"Well, well," Digzy said, his voice smooth but laced with surprise. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the Bendilanis?"

Dad stepped forward, his expression grim. "We need your help, Daniel."

Digzy leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "My help? That's a rare request. What's the job, and more importantly, what's the pay?"

Grandpa stepped forward, his tone firm. "You can name your price. But first, you need to hear what we have to say."

Digzy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."

Dad's jaw tightened as he spoke. "We need to put down Thomas Pezi."

The room fell silent, the weight of the name hanging in the air. Digzy's expression shifted from curiosity to shock, then to something darker. "Thomas Pezi?" he repeated, his voice low. "That's a lot of money you're talking about. And a lot of risk."

Dad nodded, his gaze unwavering. "We know. But it's necessary."

Digzy leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "Why are you so invested in taking down a man like Thomas? He's not someone you mess with lightly. Even I wouldn't cross him without a damn good reason."

Grandpa's voice was cold as he answered. "He's responsible for the death of my dear Alice."

Digzy's eyes widened, his composure slipping for the first time. "Alice?" he repeated, his voice trembling with anger. "Your Alice? My Alice?"

Dad nodded, his expression pained. "Yes. Thomas orchestrated her murder. And we're not going to let him get away with it."

Digzy slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "That son of a—" He cut himself off, his chest heaving as he struggled to contain his rage. "You don't have to pay me a damn thing. I'll do it for free."

Dad and Grandpa exchanged a glance, surprised by the intensity of Digzy's reaction. "Are you sure?" Dad asked, his voice cautious.

Digzy's eyes burned with fury as he stood, his hands clenched into fists. "No one messes with my sister and gets away with it. Alice was family. She was… she was." His voice broke, and for a moment, he looked like a man haunted by grief. "Tell me what you need. Count me in."

Otim, who had been standing quietly in the corner, felt a chill run down his spine. He had known Digzy was dangerous, but seeing him like this—raw, emotional, and filled with rage—was something else entirely. He stayed silent, knowing that any mention of his own role in Mom's death would be a death sentence.

Dad, Digzy, and Mom had grown up together in the same neighborhood, their lives intertwined from childhood. Digzy, the eldest of the three, had always been the protector. He had taken it upon himself to shield Dad and Alice from the harsh realities of their world, even when it meant putting himself in harm's way.

Back then, Digzy had been more than just a friend—he was family. He had taught Dad how to fight, how to stand up for himself, and how to protect those he loved. And mom… Mom had been the light in their lives, the one who kept them grounded and reminded them of what truly mattered. Digzy had adored her, not just as a sister but as a symbol of everything good in the world.

But as they grew older, their paths began to diverge. Dad had chosen a life of legitimacy, helping mom to build the Bendilani Group from the ground up. Mom had followed her heart, marrying Dad and starting a family. And Digzy… Digzy had been drawn into the shadows, his natural charisma and ruthlessness making him a force to be reckoned with in the city's underworld.

Over time, Digzy had distanced himself from the family, his illegal activities making it difficult to maintain the close bond they had once shared. But despite the distance, the love and loyalty he felt for Dad and Mom had never wavered. And now, hearing that Mom had just been taken from them, that bond had been reignited with a ferocity that even Otim could feel.

Dad stepped forward, his voice steady. "We need manpower, resources, and a plan. Thomas is holed up in a compound near the northern border. It's heavily guarded, but we have intel on the layout and his routines."

Digzy nodded, his expression hardening. "Consider it done. I'll mobilize my best men. But I want in on the action. If Thomas is responsible for Alice's death, I want to be there when he pays for it."

Grandpa placed a hand on Dad's shoulder, his tone firm. "We'll need to move quickly. Thomas won't stay in one place for long."

Digzy's lips curled into a grim smile. "Then let's not waste any more time. I'll make the arrangements. You just tell me when and where."