Bittersweet

~~ It's A Dirty Business ~~

Opening the first one, I grabbed a stack of files and went and sat myself at the desk.

Rummaging through them, there was reams of information about lots of different companies, mainly financial—nothing that I could make any sense of and no use to me.

Three hours later, hot, thirsty with tired eyes, I was still at a loss. Pulling open the drawers to cabinet number seven... lucky number seven I hoped, I sat my numb ass down and began reading through. 

Jackpot—Lucky number seven it was! 

My father had information on the dirty doings of more than one celebrity and a politician or two...going back years.

Je-sus Christ.

I had to re-read it twice; it looked like Gareth Carmichael, an influential and world renowned director, had woken up in bed with his dead lover... and my father had happily handled the clean-up. In other words, made it all disappear.

Another file, another dirty secret. They had paid handsomely for his firm to ensure a rape victim never testified against another prominent well known name, again magically swept under the carpet.

I found a few more incriminating documents that my father or his sick clients would not want out in the open.

The nausea kicked in at some despicable acts these bastards had hidden and the sad reality for their victims. Some I was sure would visit me when I slept. And I couldn't say who was worse - the sick fucks who committed the vile acts or my father and his firm of specialists who had handled the clean up.

Five cases I decided was enough. Five different names. Five dirty deeds erased or 'fixed.'

Bastards.

I'd always thought my father was shady—but this, it covered his hands in filth.

Disgusted by his actions. The years of him preaching right and wrong when his moral compass was so far south, I was sure there would be a delightful spot reserved in hell for him.

My hands felt dirty just reading them.  But as much as it disgusted me—I would use it against him. This would get Tony to back the hell off and leave Jenna alone.

Would I as bad as them? Maybe? But Jenna was my priority here.

I didn't need the rest of the files, and as I gathered them, I dropped one. Bending down, a picture popped out. I stared long and hard at the face staring back at me.

Ileana Abalos.

Those eyes, I would never forget those eyes. I plucked the file from the floor and held the photograph in my hand. I hadn't seen Ileana since I was nineteen. She was my first love in some ways. Big chocolate brown eyes with skin as smooth as honey. Long wavy black hair framed her face, and as I remembered her smile was just as infectious, as a smile curved my top lip. She was beautiful.

From Mexico, her family had only been here for a short time before I'd plucked up the courage to ask her out.  Her father had worked for us, a gardener.

Just before my twentieth birthday she disappeared, along with her entire family. My father had said they had been here in America illegally and been deported, but I'd never believed him.

Sitting down with the file, I opened and spread the contents across the desk. 

My stomach lurched. Another picture—but not one of Ileana smiling. No—Ileana's battered face stared back.  Who the hell had done this to her and why was this file mixed in with the others? I scanned the rest, coming across a police report.