Page 63 of The Saint

“Of course, it does.” I couldn’t help but smile. At his helplessness. At the way we were going to change his life. “There are certain people who would be interested in the very thing you offer. But they’ve never heard of you. And without us, they never will.”

He blinked, one million thoughts flashing across his eyes like a movie screen, as he tried to piece together what I was saying. I could tell the moment it hit him. His lips pursed, like he was trying to keep the hopeful words from tumbling across them and spilling into the room. I let him soak in it, watched that hope bleed through him as he struggled to tamp it down.

Then I let him off the hook.

“It would be in our best interests to direct these people to someone who could take care of them. With your pipeline out of Miami and your skills, and our contacts and distribution network, you’ll have enough to pay us and your crew, and still have more than enough to send home to your mommy.”

His eyes flared, then bounced from my face to Rolly’s as the man beside me spoke.

“Don’t forget his brothers and baby sisters.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget.” I shrugged. “Didn’t think it was necessary to mention them, given that the kingpin takes care of the family.”

Was it cruel to threaten him this way? To lay out our offer with the subtle warning that we knew where he came from and who mattered most to him?

Perhaps.

But this was business.

This was D’Angelo’s way.

There were other players out there, of course. But the fact of the matter was, those players weren’t effective. Their supply was local, and the police had already cracked down on the best of them just by watching the known players.

What Alvarez had was different. He’d come to New York with ties to a successful shop in Miami. He had a potentially lucrative front in the autobody shop, with skills enough to keep the legitimate side of his business going without need of the illegal side.

But that illegal side was where all the money was. And that’s why D’Angelo wanted him.

Alvarez’s face was drained of color, the threat to his family at the forefront of his mind. That threat needed to be delivered, but it was more a way to draw him in.

“We’re not looking to damage what you have, either here or back home. We want you for what you can bring to the organization.”

“Beyond the shakedown that’s coming in the next week?” It wasn’t really a question, but the balls it took for him to bring it up made me like him even more.

A smile, the first genuine one I’d felt since I walked into the shop, tugged at my lips. “Of course. That needs to go down without a hitch. But we want what you want. We’ll help you get where you want to be, and you’ll pay us for helping you get there.”

We let Alvarez contemplate our offer in silence. Shaw had said he might need some time to process it before he’d come around. Shit had gone down in Miami that had led him to New York, and even that decision had taken him time to make.

Out in the shop, music blared. A moment later, it cut out, and only the sound of Gloria’s yelling voice could be heard, her words so quick and muffled by the door that even if she’d been speaking in English, I wouldn’t have been able to understand them. But I didn’t need to know Spanish in order to figure out what she was yelling about.

All it took was one look across the desk at her big brother.

Alvarez lifted his chin, and his throat worked through a hard swallow. His dark gaze rose from the desk between us, and he only flinched slightly when it caught on mine.

“How much will I owe you?”

Rolly reached into the pocket of his cargo pants, pulling out a fresh stack of hundred-dollar bills. Alvarez watched as a second stack joined the first, eyes widening as a third was added to the pile. And they grew, and grew, as Rolly shifted in his seat and pulled two more from the other side.

“Fifty grand, for starters.” I motioned to the stack, though I didn’t need to. Alvarez hadn’t taken his attention off it. “And another fifty will be added to that once the situation next week is resolved.”

His head whipped up, his attention now on me.

“You’ll have a year to pay back this advance, though I doubt you’ll need that long. On top of this, you’ll owe forty percent of all income derived from our leads, and fifteen percent of anything you bring in on your own.”

Alvarez’s throat worked again, and his hand lifted to his chin, absently scratching at the short black hair that covered it.

“Of course, there will need to be some oversight, to ensure the organization is getting what’s owed. We’ll need access to your operation, front to back. We may have suggestions on changes that need to be made.”

At this, his eyes narrowed, zeroing in on me. “My crew?”