His Only Weakness

Jada Torres sat alone in her apartment in Spain, holding a letter from one of her father's friends. Her father, Pedro, was known for hanging out with a dangerous crowd. After getting into trouble, he fled Spain and moved to Boston, leaving her behind with his only living sister.

She received the letter on her birthday; she had just turned twenty-one and found out that her father had been murdered by an Italian mafia boss—Armando Valentino, who had been living in Boston for over five years.

The letter said that her father had developed a gambling habit and owed Mr. Valentino a great deal of money. When he couldn't pay it back, he was shot, execution style.

She sat there, tears rolling down her face, when she heard a knock at the door. She got up, and when she saw who it was, she fell into the woman's arms and sobbed.

"I just heard and came right over."

"Aunt Sara, I'm so glad you're here," she said as she pulled away and closed the door behind them.

The older woman led Jada to the sofa, and they sat down. "I'm so sorry about your father. He never should have gone to the United States."

"Then why did he?"

"He felt he had to go to protect you from himself. You were only ten years old when he left you with me."

"Protect me from him? I don't understand."

"You were too young to understand what was going on with him. He got himself into so much trouble here, with his drinking and gambling. His life was in danger, so he left and couldn't take you with him."

"I remember when he left, and he always said he would come back for me and that we could have a life in Boston. But he never came back, and I never heard from him except for a few birthday cards over the years." She looked at her aunt, feeling hurt and angry at her father. "I guess he never loved me or wanted me."

"No, no dear. Your father loved you with all of his heart. But he had a sickness and couldn't shake the devil off his back. He thought you were better off without him."

"I loved him; he was my father, and I can remember the good times we had together. When he was home and sober, we would do things together. He would take me to the movies and the park and sometimes to get ice cream. No matter what he got himself into, he didn't deserve to die the way he did."

"I know, dear, but you must move on and live your life."

Jada stood up, went to the window, and looked out. There was no way she could let his death go unpunished. From what the letter said, the police couldn't do anything, so they dropped the case.

After her aunt left, she lay in bed. She knew that she couldn't let Armando Valentino get away with murdering her father. If the police wouldn't do anything, then she would.

The next day, she went to the law firm where she worked as a secretary and told her boss she needed a few weeks off.

"I'm sorry about your father, and if you need to make funeral arrangements, you can have a few days off."

"No, I need at least a month or two off. I'm going to America to take care of some things."

"I'm sorry, Jade, but I can't give you that much time off."

"Well, then I quit as of right this minute." No one was going to stop her from taking revenge on the man who killed her father.

"If you quit, there won't be a job waiting for you."

She picked up her purse and walked toward the door; she stopped to look back at him. "That's fine with me. I hated working for a bunch of assholes, and none of you were any good at your job."

When her mother died during childbirth, Jada was left a small inheritance, which her father had gambled away years ago. But after working since she was sixteen, she saved quite a bit. It was enough to get her to America and do what she needed to do. She would worry about money when she came back home and found another job.

Her aunt was upset when she found out where Jada was going and couldn't understand why she would want to go so far from home.

Well, she couldn't tell her aunt the truth, so she made up an excuse. "I need to go visit his gravesite and talk to his neighbour. I need to know exactly what my father got himself involved in."

"It could be dangerous, and I don't want anything bad happening to you."

"I promise I'll be careful. Try to understand that I have to do this. I won't be gone forever."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"The sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back. Please, don't worry about me; I'll be fine."

After she left her aunt's place, she went home to pack. She had booked the flight and arranged a hotel room.

After an eight-hour flight, she finally arrived, and once she got to Boston, she checked into the hotel. It was late, and she was going to visit her father's friend. But since it was so late, she figured he'd be in bed, so she decided to go in the morning.

The next morning, after breakfast in the hotel dining room, she took a cab to James Giacometti's apartment. It was in a poor part of Boston. Everything looked a little run-down, and some of the people lingering around looked very sketchy.

When she found the apartment, she knocked twice and waited for someone to answer. A man in his late fifties opened the door, looked her up and down, then spoke.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

He had on a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt that had stains on it, and he reeked of booze. "Mr. Giacometti. I'm Jada Torres, Pedro's daughter."

"Oh, well, come in and have a seat. I'll make us some tea. Unless you prefer a shot of brandy."

"It's too early for alcohol, but I wouldn't mind some tea." She sat and waited for him to come back with her drink. As she sat there, she looked around. It was messy, with empty liquor bottles lying around.

James handed her the tea in an old cup with a chip on one side. He, meanwhile, had a beer.

"So, Miss. What brings you all the way here?"

"I wanted to visit my father's grave and thought that since I was here I'd come and see you. I wanted to thank you for writing to me and letting me know about my father."

"Your father told me about you; he always regretted leaving you. It broke his heart, but he didn't want you to see him the way he was."

"Is there anything you can tell me about his murder and the man who killed him?"

"Mr. Valentino is a very dangerous man, and no one dares to cross him. You should stay far away from him. Your father drank and gambled all the time. He stole money from Valentino to support his habit."

She felt her stomach churning but still wanted more information. "How much did my father steal?"

"Five grand."

"He was murdered for such a small amount?" She was shocked.

"My dear, it wasn't because of the money."

"Then why?"

"He was killed because Valentino wanted to make an example of him to others. To let them know what would happen if they also decided to steal from him."

"He's a monster," she said, holding back tears.

"I suggest you go straight back to Spain after you visit your father's grave. It is not safe for you here."

She ignored his comment and looked back at him. "Tell me everything you know about Mr. Valentino. Where he lives, where he likes to go."

"Now why would you want to know all that?"

"He must pay for what he did to my father, and I'll make sure he does."

"You'll never get close enough to that man. He is always surrounded by bodyguards and the men who work for him. Leave it be and go home."

"Please, tell me what I need to know."

He sighed when he realized she wasn't going to give up. "No one knows for sure where he lives. But he does own a club, The Dark Tunnel. I wouldn't go there if I were you. It's where a lot of the underworld people hang out."

"What does Mr. Valentino look like? I just looked him up, but I couldn't find any pictures of him."

"You never will. He does not allow anyone to take his picture, ever. If you do go to the club, and I really hope you don't, you'll know it's him when you see him."

"Is he an older man or young?"

"Around thirty, and some would say very handsome. But don't let his good looks fool you; he's very dangerous."

She stood up. "I took up enough of your time, but thank you for all your help."

He too stood, facing her. "It was a pleasure meeting you. Again, I'm very sorry about your father. Deep down, he was a good man, just lost his way."

"Thank you," she said, holding out her hand to shake his. She noticed a gold lighter on the table and, smiling at James, she said. "It's times like this I wish I'd smoke."

"Not me, Miss. I have enough bad habits as it is."

He walked her to the door. "Miss Torres. Might I ask what you are planning to do when you find him?"

"I'm going to kill him."

He gasped at her emotionless answer when she walked away.

After leaving James's place, she went to a shop that sold weapons. The place she found was run-down, and the man behind the counter looked stoned.

"How can I help you?" he asked as she walked over.

"I want to buy a gun."

He showed her several, and since she didn't know anything about them, he showed her how to load and use them.

She picked one that she knew would fit in her purse. "I'll take this one."

"OK, you'll be able to pick it up in a couple of weeks."

"No, no, I need it now."

"Sorry. You could always get one from just about any scumbag off the street. The only thing is it's probably stolen, and they will charge you a small fortune. Are you wanting something for protection?"

Well, she couldn't very well tell him the real reason, so she agreed. "Yes, I do."

"Then maybe a knife would work. A beautiful woman like you should have something to protect yourself with."

He showed her several and handed her one in particular. "This one will stop anyone. It looks small but can kill a man in seconds. The good thing is that it's small enough to fit in your purse. All you have to do is push this button on the side, and the blade pops out."

She jumped back when he demonstrated. The blade was long and looked very sharp. She figured if she couldn't get a gun, the knife would work. It would fit in her purse and would be much quieter than a gun.

"Yes, I'll take it." After paying cash and putting it in her purse, she thanked him and left.

Now, since she was going to the club, she decided to buy a sexy dress to wear. She needed one that would catch Mr. Valentino's attention. The only thing bothering her was whether he would be at the club when she arrived, or if she'd have to go back until she found him.

Then, once she had his attention, she would have to figure out a way to get him alone and not get caught after she took her revenge on him. As soon as it was done, she would head straight back home.