Dark Bonds

Home was a disaster—literally. Scores of reporters scurried outside the military gates, but the soldiers kept them away. A huge crowd stood outside, carrying posters and screaming their lungs out—or at least, that's how they sounded to me. But somehow—call it a fetish—the situation sort of fascinated me. I took out my phone and got a picture of the stampede going on outside home. This would be a good addition to my private collection.

"None of this is bothering you?" Gerald, my driver, asked as he drove the car into the first military gate, our convoy surrounding us. "I half expected you to say, 'What's gonna happen to Daddy now?' or 'Is Daddy going to be okay?' Then comes the part where you start crying, and I pat you on the back and tell you to cheer up."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I am bothered. Really bothered. Dad just had to steal all that money, but he left none for me."

Gerald laughed. "All these folks outside are gonna spit blood when they hear you, sweetie."

"Please," I replied, my voice filled with disdain. "None of them are saints either. Give them a little bit of power, and they will do worse. Not that I'm asking for a lot. I'm a good girl. It's only natural that Daddy gives me a share of whatever he fished out."

"Daddy just had to keep it all to himself, didn't he?" Gerald grumbled.

"Such a selfish man," I pouted. "I'm his daughter. I need to be pampered. I deserve a part of his loot."

"Go, girl," Gerald praised, lifting one of his hands into the air. I could see the unconcealed pride on his face as he giggled excitedly.

"Can't you just try to be less obvious?" I retorted, though I couldn't help but smile anyway. "Turn up the music, please. Everywhere reeks of death energy."

"Which should we play next, Dynamite or Blinding Lights?" Gerald asked, shuffling through the playlist.

"Play Dynamite! Play Dynamite!" I replied excitedly.

"Okayyy, here we go," Gerald said, turning up the volume to max.

Both of us began to sing and clap along to the song—our voices raised above the music. (I admit, we make a crazy pair.) I didn't even realize when Gerald stopped the car, and I'm sure he didn't either. It wasn't until someone knocked on the window that we stopped singing.

The interruption was vexing; I was starting to flow along with the music, you know.

Unlocking the door, I got out to find grumpy old man (a.k.a. Anthony) standing by the side of the door with one of his eyebrows raised. I recognized that look. It was one he usually wore when about to make a request that wouldn't align well with my rebellious streak.

"Miss, please behave. The investigators are inside right now," he told me.

"Yeah, whatever," I replied, glancing around the courtyard. It felt different. I mean, if you don't count the dozens of police cars and patrolling officers I didn't recognize moving around the enclosure, nothing much had changed. I think.

With a yawn, I walked toward the front door. It's high time I had a much-needed meeting with Daddy. I mean, I want my share too. He's my father; it's only right he leaves some for me. So I wasn't doing anything wrong. Yes, this is totally normal. They say family first, right?

With that thought in mind, I walked confidently into the living area, thinking of various ways to make my request known to Daddy. I could say it sweetly, cutely, or with puppy eyes. Yes, puppy eyes work best.

Looking around the living area, I spotted Dad sitting leisurely by a corner, a glass of champagne in his hand, surrounded by a swarm of officers.

The Interpol???

Okay, now this was bad news.

I skidded toward Dad with a smile. Up close, I could see a blonde-haired, cherry-lipped lady and a chubby man sitting in front of Dad, jotting things down on some paper. They must be the investigators Anthony warned me about—not that I cared.

One of them, the chubby one to be precise, widened his eyes when he saw me. I could sense some excitement in his gaze for no apparent reason. I looked at him curiously; strange people like these always fascinated me.

"That's enough, Shawn," the blonde lady called, turning her eyes to me with interest, which I could recognize. I must be an important 'specimen' for their investigation. Not that I cared anyway.

I sat down opposite Daddy on the cushion, crossing my legs and tapping my feet. I was sure they got the message, and I knew they'd ignore me. But I needed them to leave. Daddy and I had money issues, and they were light bulbs.

The chubby man kept looking at me, his smile widening. "I knew you'd be interesting, but to be this interesting," he grinned. "Oh, I've found a gem."

I frowned. "Hey, old man, have you gone senile?"

"Yes, crazy," he replied eagerly, as if he'd been waiting to say this all along. "Crazy for you."

"Crazy is good," I said, nodding as if I understood. I knew a great deal about detectives from movies, and I could tell he was one of those who weren't quite right in the head. "So, crazy man, please leave," I said bluntly.

"We're going off track," the woman said, shaking her head. "We're here to do our jobs. Please comply with us." She stretched out her hand and handed me a milkshake from God-knows-where. Not that I'd refuse, of course not. I'd never refuse such a gift from a kind-hearted lady who must have done this a million times.

As I accepted the milkshake, Dad nudged me before I could take a sip. I rolled my eyes, letting a sigh escape my lips. How could I forget? I have a very paranoid father.

The chubby man was still staring at me, his smile unwavering. I wondered what was up with me and weird people today.

"I want to ask you a few questions. Please let me know if they make you uncomfortable, honey. I don't want to get ahead of myself," the blonde lady said, her voice smooth.

I smiled back. What a liar. We both knew she wouldn't be doing her job if I felt comfortable. But hey, I was the idiot here, and she was the expert. I needed to play my role, or Daddy would be disappointed.

Giving myself a satisfied nod, I sat up straight and looked at her. She took that as her cue to begin.

"How do you feel, knowing that your dad is involved in such a felony? If I was in your position, I'd feel really bad, right?" she asked.

I knew this was the part where she studied my reaction to find out if I had any idea about Daddy's involvement. The chubby man was still glaring at me, even more intently now.

I narrowed my eyes. There must be something I am missing.

I thought the video was evidence enough, which naturally shouldn't warrant the need for an investigation. I mean, Daddy confessed on camera; there is really no need for all this hullabaloo.

And come to think of it, I had found this strange for a reason, but Dad was really quiet. I mean, Dad is the kind of man that gets sweaty when he stops talking—that's how hopeless his extroverted self is. The only possible explanation is that these guys must have told him to keep silent while they talked to me. And how dare they? Only I have the right to command Daddy like that.

I shook my head. I need to focus, yes, focus. Thinking about it now, an investigation is only useful when the cops aren't sure about who did what. If they aren't even assured of something as obvious as this, then maybe Dad was impersonated or something. I mean, it's not that hard to get a look-alike if you search hard enough. And it's not like this might not be a product of some deepfake technology—a kid might just be messing around, and bam, he decided to throw this out as a joke for fun.

If this was true, then it was bad news. I need my share, you know.

"Hey, are you okay, honey?" the lady asked, her voice filled with concern, her curious eyes fixed on her "specimen" with interest.

"Can you bake brownies?" I asked, my voice bored. Nothing interested me now that I realized my money might not even exist anymore.

The lady's eyebrows twitched, and I could tell she was getting irritated. Her partner, however, didn't even try to hide his amusement. His ugly laughter echoed around the living area, and it made me annoyed. Hell, he laughs like a banshee.

"Would you like some?" she asked calmly—too calmly, if you asked me.

"Well, the milkshake isn't going to drink itself," I replied, not backing down. "I am the affected daughter here; you need to treat me well."

"Ada," Dad called me for the first time, his voice sounding tired. "Behave yourself, please."

"Fine," I blurted, sticking out my tongue in irritation. "Of course, I am not okay. My Daddy was dragged by his ass into some scandal that had nothing to do with him, and now there is a mob of jobless psychos with nothing better to do standing guard outside. Do you want me to tell you I feel okay or happy? You really suck at your job, you know. Your detective ways need an upgrade."

Silence followed after I was done talking, and even some of the Interpol officers moving around our property turned to look at me. I could see some large veins appear on the lady's forehead, and I could tell she had reached her breaking point. Of course, not that I cared. I will always speak my mind. Yes, Daddy taught me well.

Just about then, I saw Granny come in through the door with her entourage, and I half-wondered what took her so long.

The two detectives turned their eyes toward the door when Granny walked in, and a sigh escaped the chubby man's lips when he saw her. She was bad news for them; I could tell.

"You should have given us more time, Lady Sarah. Your granddaughter is an interesting one," the man said, standing up and adjusting his medical glasses, the lady following after him. This time, I caught a glare in her eyes when she looked at me.

"Wait for the forensic analysis, Shawn. Don't get ahead of yourself," Granny replied. Then she turned to look at me with an imperceptible smile on her face, although I caught it.

"Hey, Granny," I greeted, standing up and embracing her in a hug. "I need some rest, Granny. I have been through a lot, you know," I said, looking at the two investigators with a "kind" smile. Then I turned back to Granny, my eyes speaking volumes.

"We will excuse ourselves, then," the chubby Shawn said, looking at me with amused eyes before turning toward the door. His actions were like that of a catalyst, because all the officers scurrying around followed behind him when he began to move. The lady followed after him, but not before she studied me one last time with a strange smirk on her face, which really didn't look good on her. But hey, I won't be rude and tell her that. I smiled like a proper lady and waved my hands with a giggle.

The moment they all left, I turned to Daddy, the smile leaving my face. "Why is Interpol involved in all this bullshit? Since when did this get international?"

"The US was involved, child," Granny replied, half-opening the curtains and looking absentmindedly out of the windows. "Countries are panicking. Nothing stops them from getting fooled. They have to be assured of their investments, or all hell will break loose."

I shook my head. "But this entire thing was made up. I mean, it wasn't Dad saying all those things, right? Someone just came up with such an idea to make the message more… believable."

"It wasn't made up," Dad replied, looking up at me with distant eyes. "Ademuliyi did get fooled, and the Ministry of Labor in Washington was involved. He tried to keep it quiet and push the problem to the Revenue Committee, but now that this video is out, he can't keep being on the defensive. So, he admitted it was a fraud."

"Does this mean we are fucked?" I asked, and I could feel a headache coming. I have always hated this game of politics.

"Not really," Granny replied, casting a fleeting look at Daddy before turning to me. "Your dad said he wasn't the one in the recording, so we just need the forensics to analyze it and get him out of this mess."

Somehow, I had a bad feeling about this. But I didn't want to think too much. I deserve a beauty sleep right now. "I am going to my room," I told Dad and Granny, walking briskly toward the elevators without turning back.

Last time I had an afternoon nap, I had a dream where a hot boy told me he liked me, and he kept calling me his Juliet. Now that I think about it, I need to ask him why. I don't want to date a dead Romeo, even if he is hot. I am a good girl; I won't date ghosts, or Daddy won't be proud.

With that in mind, I jumped on my bed and slept off, the smile on my face not wearing off. Oh Romeo, please come visit me in Dreamworld.