In Your Hands

Arnold stood near the window, whiskey in one hand and a file in the other; the file contained information relating to Grayson McCarthy and his family. He had a debt long overdue, and usually, he wasn't one to give graces and extensions, but other things needed his urgent attention, like the burial of his late grandfather Richard Giovanni; everyone affiliated with the Giovanni empire both in the underworld and corporate world attended and paid their respects to the late patron of the empire.

His parents didn’t bother to come. He at least expected them to, but they didn't, but then again, what more could he expect from people who betrayed their young son for money? They disgusted him, and he was sure he wouldn't have been able to stand their hypocrisy if they had come.

Arnold looked at the file again and picked up his phone. It was high time he got back to his activities, and no one thought he would be the type to mourn anyway.

“Find McCarthy and bring him to me now.” He said in a low voice and disconnected the call. Arnold knew his reputation preceded him, so if Grayson McCarthy wasn't stupid, he'd know that sooner or later, he would come find him. 

Twenty minutes later, the door opens, and three men walk in. One of them was his right-hand man, Eugene Torres, the other was his lawyer, Mark Vaughn, and they were holding Mr. McCarthy.

They held him in place, and a bag was over his head, Arnold gestured to the seat opposite him; “Why don't you let our guest have a seat?” He said, and they made him sit and remove the bag over his head before going to stand on the other side of the table.

“Hello, McCarthy,” Mark said, smiling. 

“I know I'm back on my debt, but I wish you could hear me out, Mr. Giovanni. I just need a little more time, and I promise you'll have every penny back.” Mr. McCarthy said.

“Arnold Giovanni gives no grace, and I'm sure you knew about that before signing this,” Mark replied, waving their contract in his face.

Arnold gave Eugene a signal, and he brought out a dagger from his drawer. This dagger belonged to his grandfather. It was a family heirloom that all the Giovanni men inherited, and he loved to use it to prove a point.

“You do know that I could kill you right now, and there won't be as much as a whisper about your death,” Arnold said, playing with the knife. 

Immediately, Mr. McCarthy struggled out of Eugene's hold and got on his knees, begging. “Please spare me, I'll do anything, just don't kill me. Whatever it is you want, just spare me this once.”

“What do you think you can do for me, McCarthy?” Arnold asks, standing up from his chair and moving to the other side where Mr. McCarthy is on his knees.

“I have two daughters, Keira and Kenna. I could give you one of them to anyone you pick to pay off the debt.” He replied with his face down and his hands on his knees.

Arnold laughed. 

It wasn't the fact that he was offering his daughter up to repay his debt that made him laugh. It was the fact that he was willing to sell his child off to clear his debt. How gullible, but at least the man had more spunk than he thought.

“I'll give you Keira. She's the eldest one. Just don't hurt me or my family.” 

Arnold looked at him. If he was offering, then he should accept his offer. By taking Keira, he could use her to tug at his heartstrings but then again if he could offer her up so easily doesn't it mean he couldn't care less what could happen to her if she was brought to him?

“Mark, draw up another contract,” Arnold said, resting on his table, picking up his almost forgotten glass of whiskey. “Keira belongs to me now McCarthy, and until you pay up, she will never return to her family, and if you don't, I will do as I see fit with her.” 

“Of course, sir.” 

Arnold scoffed. Blood was never truly the ultimate bond. It was the loyalty of a person who defined who was going to stick by you forever or whenever. He knew that too well if his parents could turn their backs on him at a very young age.

“She’ll have to sign it too, so make sure you get her to do it,” Mark said. “Well, that should do it.”

“You'll need a souvenir to take back,” Arnold said, and then his fist went flying straight to Mr. McCarthy’s face. “It won't end with my fist in your face the next time we meet McCarthy.” 

Grayson McCarthy spat the blood pooling in his mouth out without even realizing it. The only thing he could do was to spite Arnold and secretly plot his demise like every one of his enemies.

Eugene dragged him out after Mark handed him the papers he was going to make his daughter sign. Arnold took the remaining contents in his glass with one gulp. He was done with McCarthy, and now it was on to the next thing.

“You just made a marriage contract with some girl you don't even know. Are you sure about this?” Mark said, watching him as he took his seat and started scanning through the other paperwork on his desk. 

“Am I sure about what?” Arnold raised an eyebrow.

Mark sighed. He knew Arnold too well to know that his mind was already made up. “Just say the word and the contract is null and void if you change your mind about a stupid marriage with some girl.” 

“Vaughn, she's collateral.” That was all he said, then again he wasn't one to say much and Mark knew the assignment. Keira was in deepshit if her father failed to pay his debt. 

It was getting dark out, and there was still no word from her dad. Keira sat at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him to call or for him to show up; anyone was fine with her. Kenna had gone to bed fifteen minutes ago, unable to keep her eyes open for much longer.

A few minutes later, her dad came in. She was dozing off, so she didn't know when he came in, but at least he was home.

“Dad, what happened?” Keira looked at his face in shock. There was a bruise forming on his cheek; he was hit in the face.

“It's nothing, sweetheart. Is your mom asleep?” He asked, walking towards the coffee table to drop his keys.

“Yeah, she fell asleep an hour ago. Dad, what's going on? You just don't get hit in the face randomly. Please tell me what is wrong?” She pleaded, touching his face.

He kissed her palm and patted her hands. “I'm fine, and yes, people get hit in the face randomly.” He replied, but she didn't believe him one bit.