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1
“MOTHERFUCKING IDIOT,” I hiss out, letting the steel door behind me slam shut. My head is throbbing—muscles coiling—as the urge to break the neck of the piece of shit errand boy my father asked me to hire runs deep. Ire flows like lava through my veins, and I need to get ahold of myself.
Rash emotions lead to stupid decisions. Errors.
Like the one I now need to eliminate. It was a mistake, and I know better than to ever mix familial ties with business decisions. Nevertheless, I gave in when asked, and here we fucking are.
Millions could have been lost. Charges would have been pressed.
Now, I’m left with no choice but to right a wrong that never should have been.
The feds are now looking into the Jameson family and its ties to the dealing of stolen weaponry and narcotics. Because of a simple fuckup—something someone heard come out of Michael, a person under my employ, I’m making every tidbit of information on the Jameson account disappear.
Nothing stays on that file. Not so much as a single cent.
My IT department is making it as if they never existed. Moreover, in this country, they don’t.
A few steps inside and the harsh scent of urine and perspiration invades my senses. My nose flares in disgust as I look toward the back—skipping over the three empty cells—and focus on the two near-naked men with their hands tied to a metal pipeline above their heads. Their feet are chained to the ground, limiting their movement.
They are the cause, and I am the effect.
Decisions have consequences. Repercussions. Rectifications that will appease the victims of their idiocy.
One spoke about things he doesn’t understand, while the other tried to bribe the hand that feeds. Demanded that I kneel or else.
Because of that, tonight, I am their judge, jury, and executioner. The God each one will beg forgiveness to.
“Good evening.” At the sound of my voice, one of the men looks up and his eyes widen. His bare chest is heaving with each rapid intake of air that does nothing to calm his nerves. Instead, his eyes lock with mine while a whimper leaves his split lip.
His fear is palpable, and it fails to move me. Motherfucking pathetic.
You knew better.
My eyes flicker to the other man and take account of the few bruises already forming on his face. He seems to be muttering a low prayer under his breath, tears running down his cheeks while his eyes look toward the wall past me. Avoiding his reality.
No begging. No pleading for leniency.
They’re smarter than I expect. Know better.
Nothing pisses me off more than someone who can’t accept their fate with dignity.
“Evening, boss,” everyone answers, a low rumble that reverberates off the walls. Unlike other men in my position, I don’t wait for my clean-up crew to arrive. Instead, they stand at the ready wearing protective gear and white masks. Their faces are bowed, arms behind their backs as I pass them on my way toward the two men who’ve caused me this unnecessary headache.
“Any problem getting them here?” I ask Javier, the head of my security and right-hand man.
“None.” He’s watching the two squirm, smirking as he hands me my favorite knife.
“Thank you.” Taking it from his hand, I flick my wrist and admire the sleek blade. This small token came from my father the day I took over. A sharp blade with a solid gold handle—the exact replica of the one he kept inside his desk upstairs when he was the CEO of Asher Holdings. Back when the bank played a smaller part in the underground world of money laundering.
A phone rings, and Javier is quick to remove it from his pocket. I recognize it, and know it belongs to the gossiping fuck. Both men cease all movement, their eyes on me as I accept the phone from Javi’s outstretched hand.
I know who it is. I know what he’ll say.
Pressing the green button, I put the call on speakerphone and wait. Silence looms, and the harsh breathing on the other end comes from a man I still admire. Someone who should’ve taught his son a few lessons early on.
“What is your decision, Malcolm?” Straight to the point, his tone not showing his true emotions.
“What do you want it to be?” I toss back, walking slowly over to his son. A son that reeks of fear and his own piss. Who couldn’t keep his mouth shut after I gave him the opportunity to work for me. Work his way up the ranks.
