A Crime of Passion

Desmond stared silently at the two women across the table from him, neither could meet his eye. The younger, a girl somewhere in her early twenties, had her face buried in her hands, while the older woman watched the hands on her watch tick away. He wasn't surprised by their unwillingness to meet his eye, as their proposition was quite unusual. Desmond took a deep breath through his nose and spoke, the break in the silence causing both women to look his way. "You realize, of course, what this method of... payment... would entail, correct?" When both had nodded, he continued, "I need you to say it. Clearly. Out loud." Both hesitated before the older woman spoke up.

"By agreeing to this, you'll consider the debt my husband owes you to be paid in full." Desmond could tell by the tightening of her hand that she was still to admit to what was happening, but he wouldn't let her tiptoe around this.

"And just what do you mean when you say, "This?" by chance?" The younger of the two opened her mouth, but a glace from Des quickly caused her to close it.

"By "this" I mean, I'll... trade my daughter to you, in exchange for my husband's debt to be considered paid off." The woman nearly bit her tongue from snapping the words out, but they were clear. Desmond nodded and turned to the young woman.

"Now you. What is happening?"

"I... I'm being sold, or bargained, to you in order to pay off my father's debt... My life will be in your hands, to do with as you please..."

"Who's idea was this? Trading you to me just to clear your father's debt?"

"It was my parents', but I agreed to it."

"Why would you agree to such a thing, being, in so many words, sold to a man you'd never met before, for your father?"

"I... I love my family, and, even though he's sick, I know that my father would have done the same for me, had the tables been reversed."

"And by "sick" you simply mean that your father suffers from a gambling addiction, correct?"

"Y-yes, that's right."

"Very well, thank you. Now, before we end, I need the two of you to sign this." Des pulled out a stack of papers and slid them across the table to the two women, who looked at the papers as if they were a coiled viper ready to strike.

"W-what is this?" The older woman asked, slowly maneuvering the papers in front of her.

"A contract. You'll both sign it in all designated areas before we part."

Scanning over the pages, the woman spoke up, "This... why?"

Desmond laughed quickly at her question, causing her to flinch back in her seat. "Well, if you'd had just come with the money, I'd take it and be on my way, but no. You're selling me your daughter. By signing this contract, you're admitting that you're playing a consenting role in this. I'll have proof, on paper, that it's not just kidnap. If Johnny Law shows up at my door with SWAT teams and a human trafficking warrant, then you'd be just as liable as I would. I mean, sure, it'd hurt my wallet, and probably take a couple months at least, but I'd be able to beat it regardless; but with proof that it's done with your consent, it'd go much faster for me. Plus, you'd be burning yourself by trying to screw me. So, the both of you will sign this, or the deal is off. The choice is, though, yours to make."

He watched as both women signed their names and initials on any and all required lines, then took the papers, shuffling them away into a binder, which was then placed into his case. With a smile, he leaned back and, looking at the older woman, nodded his head. "Alright, consider the debt cleared. You're free to go." When both girls rose to their feet, Des shot a look at the younger, his smile as sharp as a knife. "Not you. Sit down." The girls froze, then, after a beat, the younger slowly sat back down, glancing at her departing mother, who didn't even take a backwards glance as she hurried away. The sight of Des' new... roommate... crumpling in on herself as a couple tears rolled down her cheeks made him swallow before he quickly made a movement to rub at his chest.

After a few moments, the girl had mostly collected herself and sat up straighter on her seat. "So, what now... sir?" She asked in a meek and timid voice. Desmond looked to his right, across the room, and nodded his head. A minute later, a waiter strode to the table, bowed slightly, and began.

"Ah, hello and good evening, Monsieur and Madame. May I have the pleasure of taking your orders today?"

Desmond nodded in greeting before answering, "Good evening. Yes, I'll have the chicken confit, and the lady will have the salmon en papillote."

"Excellent choices, excellent! I shall inform the kitchen post haste!" And, saying that, the waiter quickly retreated into the back.