Chapter 4

Theo's POV

“Please… please give me some more time. I will pay you back,” the old fool's voice was low and shaky, his eyes already in tears.

The warehouse floor was cold concrete. A single overhead light made circles of brightness and shadow. 

His face was bruised, his suit was dirty, and I must admit it looked good on him.

I sat opposite him, my breathing calm, as my gaze moved to my wrist watch. 

“This is what happens when you steal from me. Taking money from my club and gambling it!” My voice was low but steady, as I walked towards him.

“Now you owe me. Not just for my money, but also for the insult.”

Xavier leaned against a steel support beam. He watched with a lazy interest.

 He was my best friend, he was also a billionaire and also ran his own empire in the mafia world. 

We worked together, and we believed we controlled everything because that’s the truth. He expressed it with charm, and I expressed it with silence.

“Time is a currency,” my voice was calm, echoing in the empty space. “and you spent yours.”

“I have a family…a daughter.”

“You should have thought of her before you stole from me.” I took a step closer, my shoes were silent on the floor. 

“Where’s my money?” I said, my gaze never leaving his.

“I do not have it yet, not all of it. But I can get it…a week. Please give me a week,” his breathing was rapid, his voice shaking.

I looked at Xavier, he gave a slight shake of his head. His blue eyes held amusement. He found these scenes exciting.

“He is lying,” Xavier said as he walked around the kneeling man.

“His accounts are empty and he booked a flight to Morocco for tomorrow, and a ticket.”

“No! That's not for me…it's for my cousin,” the man's eyes went wide.

I was tired of his voice, the whining grated on my nerves.

“I had given you a simple choice, pay or pay and you choose neither…you choose to beg.”

I didn’t use a gun this time, it was too quick. I wanted to make a point.

 I nodded to one of my men, Anton. His hands were like hammers.

Anton stepped forward, he grabbed the man by the back of his neck. He pulled his head back, making the man’s throat exposed. 

I took the knife from my pocket. It was a simple switchblade, the blade flashing in the light.

“Wait! Please!...”

I walked towards him, my body calm. I slid the blade across his throat, making a deep cut. The sound was wet, as blood poured out. 

Anton let the body drop, landing with a heavy thud.

“Rot in hell,” I looked at the blood on my hand, a few drops had speckled on them.

Another man stepped forward, offering a white linen handkerchief. 

“Clean this up,” my voice was calm, my gaze drifting to Xavier

The man nodded, as he and Anton moved to deal with the body.

“Smoke?” Xavier said, offering me a cigarette, as I shook my head.

“Hmm…I think you need a good fuck, T,” Xavier said, as he blew out smoke.

 “Should I call one of my bimbos for you? The blonde from the opera, she’s flexible.”

“I am not a playboy like you,” my gaze was sharp and intense, as I checked my hands for any other stain from blood.“Mind your words.”

Oh! My bad. I forgot you prefer brooding to enjoying yourself. Chill man! It was just a suggestion, you've been tense,” he laughed, as he nudged my shoulders.

“Incompetence makes me tense.” I rolled my eyes, walking out of the room.

“This is not about business,” he took another drag. “This is about the girl, the server…Mirabelle.”

“She’s a witness, nothing more.”

“You gave her a year's contract to be your girlfriend? That is not a standard witness management procedure,” his voice was full with amusement, smiling lightly.

“It’s efficient, it keeps her close and controls the narrative.”

“It's interesting,” he smiled. “I’ve never seen you negotiate with a woman before, usually you just take what you want.”

“I am taking what I want, on my terms.” We left the warehouse, and a car was waiting outside. 

The night air was cool, as we got into the back of the car.

“So,” Xavier said. “The shipping deal in Marseille, the Italians are pushing back.”

“Let them push. They have no leverage. Their docks are in my pocket.”

“And the club expansion? The permits are stalled.”

“Pay the right person. Make the problem disappear.” I looked out the window, the city lights streaked by. My mind was not on business, it was on the girl. Her brown eyes, wide with fear but full of fight. Her stupid, stubborn courage, it amused me and also irritated me. She should be broken by now.”

We arrived at my office in the city. This one was about stocks, a merger. We spoke with lawyers. I signed the merger papers, my signature a sharp, and it required no thought. But that girl, however, required too much of it. Her stubbornness was an inefficient, persistent variable in an otherwise calculated equation.

After the lawyers left, Xavier poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to me.

“To efficiency,” he said, I drank, the whiskey was smooth, as it burned a little.

My personal assistant, Lucas, entered the room. He was a thin man, always wore glasses and looked nervous. It was why I kept him. Fear made people thorough.

“Sir, a report on Mirabelle.” 

“Speak,” I put my glass down.

“My man followed her today. Her routine was normal; Work at the cafe, home. But she made a detour this afternoon, after work.”

“Continue,” my voice was calm, as I raised an eyebrow. 

“She went to a pawn shop, on Rue de la Misère. She stayed for ten minutes.

“A pawn shop? That was unexpected,” Xavier said.

“Did he see what she pawned?”

“A ring. A gold ring with a blue stone. He spoke to the owner after she left. He said she was desperate, and she took the first offer.”

“How much?”

“Three hundred euros.”

Xavier snorted. “Three hundred euros, what does she need that for?”

“She also went to the internet cafe, using a computer for thirty minutes. Although my man couldn't see the screen, he asked the attendant, and she was looking at the airline website, specifically flights to London, tomorrow afternoon.” 

The room went very quiet, I could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning.

She was planning to run? That stubborn little kitten thought she could burrow away. 

She thought three hundred euros and a cheap ticket could save her. It was almost laughable, and it was also disrespectful. I had given her a clear choice. She was trying to invent a third option and that's not allowed.

“She has spirit, I'll give her that. Running from Theo, the mafia don. Bad move,” Xavier let out a low whistle.

“It’s a stupid move,” my voice was flat. The calm was gone, now I felt a cold anger. She was disobeying, she was making me waste my time!

“What will you do?” Xavier asked, watching me with amusement.

I stood up, as I straightened my suit jacket, my gaze drifting to Lucas. “Where is she now?”

“At her apartment, the family is all inside, and the lights are on.”

I finished the whiskey, the burn was stronger now. She needed to understand there were no other options, there was only my will.

“Cancel my evening,” I said to Alain.

“Yes, sir.”

I looked at Xavier. “The Marseille deal, handle it. Use the usual pressure.”

Xavier raised his glass. “With pleasure. Where are you going?”

I walked toward the door,

without looking back.

I walked toward the door, without looking back, my hand brushed against the switchblade still in my pocket. “Time for a visit.”