Pedro sat in his office, eyes locked on the security screen while his tech team worked relentlessly, tracing every possible lead on the person who dropped off that parcel. The casino bustled with activity outside, but in here, it was a war room—silent, intense, and focused.
"Got him," one of the tech guys, Mark, finally said, tapping the keyboard. A grainy image of a man appeared on the screen. "Facial recognition pulled up his name—Victor Mwilima. He checked into an apartment complex on the east side of town two days ago."
Pedro leaned forward, his jaw tightening. "Any known affiliations?"
"Nothing concrete,
Pedro exchanged a look with his brothers, Leo and Adrian. They didn't hesitate. "Let's go," Pedro said, grabbing his jacket. His men followed as they headed out, armed and ready for confrontation.
When they reached the apartment, it was dark, the kind of place where no one asked questions. They kicked down the door, finding Victor scrambling to escape. "You're not going anywhere," Leo growled, grabbing him by the collar. The man thrashed, but Adrian landed a punch to his stomach, making him double over.
They blindfolded him, shoved him into the car, and drove to the warehouse on the outskirts of Windhoek. The place was isolated, perfect for handling problems like this. Once inside, they tied Victor to a chair, and Pedro crouched in front of him.
"Talk," Pedro ordered, his voice calm but deadly.
"I... I don't know anything!" Victor stammered, shaking.
Adrian sighed and delivered a hard punch to his jaw. "Wrong answer. Try again."
It took an hour of brutal beating before Victor finally cracked. "Okay! Okay! It was Charles Mvula! He... he sent me to send the message! He wants your father out of business! He's been planning this for years!"
Pedro clenched his jaw. Charles Mvula. The man had once been his father's best friend before greed and jealousy drove them apart. Now, he was back, trying to take what wasn't his.
Pedro stood up, nodding to Leo. Without hesitation, Leo pulled out his gun and ended Victors's miserable existence. They placed his severed hands in a box and sent it straight to Mvula with a note: *We received your message. I hope this response tells you we are not scared of you.*
Later that night, Pedro finally made it home, exhaustion creeping in. As he undressed, he realized he hadn't spoken to Lisa since the day before. He grabbed his phone and dialed her number. She answered almost immediately.
"Pedro," her voice was laced with hurt. "I thought you said you'd call yesterday."
He sighed, rubbing his face. "I know, baby. I'm sorry. Things got complicated, and I didn't want to worry you."
"Complicated? Pedro, I woke up to no text, no call. You just disappeared after dropping me off!" she snapped, frustration clear in her voice. "If something is going on, you need to tell me. I can't be left in the dark like this."
Pedro exhaled, trying to calm her down. "I know, and I hate that I made you feel like this. I just had a lot to handle, but I promise you, I'll do better. You mean everything to me, Lisa."
There was silence on the line for a moment before she spoke again, softer this time. "I just need reassurance, Pedro. I know you're busy, but I need to feel like I matter too."
"You do, baby. More than you know," he assured her. "How about I make it up to you? Tomorrow, I'll take you out. Just us, no distractions."
She hesitated but eventually sighed. "Fine. But you better not disappear again."
He chuckled. "I won't. Sleep well, my love."
"Goodnight, Pedro."
As he hung up, he leaned back against his headboard, staring at the ceiling. He knew things were only going to get messier from here, but he would do anything to keep Lisa safe—even if it meant keeping her in the dark about certain things but I will have to find a way to tell her the truth about his family kind if business and how they have dangerous enemies that might use her to get to him, I just hope and pray she won't leave me for this.