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“Oh?” Zbirak raised an eyebrow. The return of the server held his inquiry at bay. She set his new plate in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Please let me know if that’s to your liking, sir.”

Zbirak took his fork in one hand and his knife in the other, cutting the steak against the grain to reveal a pink center. Juice poured from the opening and pooled beneath the meat, threatening to mix with the heap of mashed potatoes sitting to one side. He looked up at the server and smiled with all his teeth. “It’s perfect. Please thank the chef for me.”

“Of course.” The woman flicked her ponytail over her shoulder to get it out of the way. “Is there anything else I can do for you, gentleman?”

“That’ll be all, for now.” Zbirak kept his smile steady and noticed the way it mesmerized her. “My friend and I have some business to attend to. Would it be all right if you gave us some privacy until we’re ready for the check?”

“Absolutely.” The woman backed away. “Flag me down if you need anything else.”

Zbirak watched as she retreated before returning to his steak and cutting a healthy portion from one end. It was exactly what he had been craving all day. His mouth watered as he sunk his teeth into that glorious first bite. The restaurant was three stars at best—rustic in an upscale sort of way—but they had a solid menu. Most people would’ve been happy with the cut they’d received, but Zbirak was nothing if not a perfectionist.

“You got an unhealthy relationship with your meat, pal.” Pisano’s rough voice cut through Zbirak’s moment like a knife through flesh. “Let me know if you need a minute alone.”

Zbirak scoffed. Of the two of them, he wasn’t the unhealthy one. But Pisano’s barbs were blunt and not worth Zbirak’s time. “Tell me exactly how the problem is being taken care of.”

“All right, all right. Keeps your pants on.” Pisano wiped his hands on a napkin and threw it back onto the table. He looked Zbirak in the eye for the first time in several minutes. Ah, there was some of his renowned bluster. A man who had failed one too many times took more offense to being called out for his shortcomings than a man with the confidence he would not disappoint a second time. “Would I lie to you?” He laughed, and it was a great guffaw that turned several heads. “I’m stupid, but I’m not that stupid.”

“Yes, you would.” Zbirak took another bite, but he found he couldn’t enjoy his meal under these conditions. He placed his knife and fork on the table. “And yes, you are.”

“I don’t like your tone.”

This time, it was Zbirak’s turn to laugh. It was a quiet chuckle that no one heard but Pisano. He often found humor in the men who knew better than to test hi, but did so because their pride meant more to them than their life. Zbirak leaned forward, though he didn’t relish in being any closer to Pisano than absolutely necessary. “I gave you a job. You failed.”

“A momentary setback is not a failure.” Even Pisano seemed surprised by his rather insightful retort. “She slipped away for now. We’ll get her back. Just you wait and see.”

“And how, exactly, did she slip away?”

Pisano must’ve gotten a sense that Zbirak already had the answer because he didn’t bother lying. “I sent my nephew to grab her, and she got away. Simple as that.”

“I was very specific in my instructions that you were the one to pick her up. No one else.”

“I had a prior engagement. Look.” Pisano shifted in his seat. He placed a hand on his side and winced. When he spoke again, there was a strain in his voice. “I didn’t think some random woman would be that hard to nab. She didn’t know we were after her.”

“Gender has nothing to do with survival instincts.” Zbirak leaned back in his chair, no longer able to maintain his proximity to Pisano’s form. “Society has trained women not to trust anyone, let alone a dim-witted thug such as your nephew. Your police uniform, however, would have lured her into a false sense of security.”

Pisano burped, but it didn’t appear to relieve any of the pain in his side. Sweat had accumulated along his brow. “I said I’ll take care of it.” He peered over his shoulder. “They got a bathroom in this place?”

“There’s no need. I did it myself.”

Pisano turned back to him. “The woman? You found her?”

“No, your nephew.” Zbirak pushed his plate away. The smell emanating from the sweaty man across the table had ruined his appetite. What a shame. “I took care of him.”

Pisano groaned, but Zbirak couldn’t decide if it was agony over losing his nephew or the agony in his gut. “My sister is going to kill me.”

“I assure you, she is not.” Zbirak wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and tossed it on the table next to his plate. He stood and wrapped one of his large hands around Pisano’s fleshy arm, trying not to recoil at the dampness of the man’s shirt. “Come on, I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

“How do you know?” Pisano was sweating profusely now. Every word sounded like a struggle.

Zbirak didn’t answer right away. First, he led Pisano into the men’s bathroom and directed him to the last stall. It was wheelchair accessible, which allowed both men to fit comfortably in there at once. Pisano collapsed to the floor and crawled on his hands and knees until he slumped over the toilet, his nose practically touching the water in the bowl. Zbirak closed the door behind them.

“I know your sister will not kill you because I already have.”

Pisano lifted his head enough to look at Zbirak, but the light in his eyes was fading. “Wh-what? Wh-why?”

“As I said previously,” Zbirak responded, taking a step closer to the man. He didn’t want any of his words to be misinterpreted, even with death looming overhead. “When I make a request, I expect it to be fulfilled.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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