~ Clean Up The Mess ~

  "Amiir, my man, you shouldn't be doing this. Please listen to me. I was forced, man. You know I would never go against you."

I watch Michael squirm under the grip of my men, his face already swelling on one side, blood trickling from his split lip. He looks pathetic. They always do when the consequences finally catch up with them.

  "You knew the consequences of going against me," I say, my voice flat and cold. "But you agreed to it anyway. That means you're a big man, Michael. So now you should be able to handle a big man's punishment. Shut the hell up and take this spanking like the fucking man you claim to be."

I spit to the side as my tobacco stick burns dangerously low between my fingers. Klein's call ripped me away from Henry's warmth barely an hour ago, dragged me from the one place where I can pretend to be human for a few stolen moments. Now I'm standing in this freezing warehouse in East London, watching a man I trusted betray me.

And I am going to fully unleash every ounce of rage I've been swallowing down.

Michael's crying, mucus streaming from his nose, mixing with the blood. "I have nothing but love for you, Amiir. You know that. But things have been shaky lately, man. Everyone's forming cliques. Even you... you've seemed to desert us since the marriage. I had bills to pay, family to feed. When they made the offer, I just—"

 "You just what?" I step closer, tobacco smoke curling between us. "Thought you'd sell me out for pocket change? How much did they offer you, Michael? How much was my head worth?"

"A hundred thousand," he admits, his voice breaking. "They offered one hundred thousand upfront and another fifty after the raid was successful."

"A hundred thousand." I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "You were going to destroy everything I've built, for a hundred thousand pounds? I pay you more than that in a year."

"It wasn't about the money, not really—"

"Then what was it about, Michael? Enlighten me. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like betrayal. Plain and simple."

"They said you were getting weak!" The words burst out of him. "They said the marriage was making you soft, that you couldn't control your own wife. They said the clan would turn on you within a year and anyone still loyal to you would go down with the ship. I have three kids, Amiir. Three kids who need their father alive."

"So you thought betraying me would keep you safe?" I stand up, taking a long drag from my tobacco. "Interesting strategy."

One of my men approaches, head bowed respectfully. "Boss, we finished counting. Five hundred thousand in health supplies. All meant for the rural distribution program. They're loaded in the truck."

I smile despite the fury burning in my chest. Five hundred thousand pounds worth of medical supplies that were supposed to go to clinics in poverty-stricken areas. Instead, this piece of shit was going to help them plant it at my beach house and tip off the police.

  "Good," I tell my man. "Load it into the secondary vehicle. We'll distribute it ourselves through the proper channels."

He nods and retreats.

I gesture to my other men. "Stop."

They release Michael immediately, stepping back in perfect syn. This is why I pay them well, they understand commands without needing explanations.

I walk closer to Michael's crumpled form and crouch down until we're eye level. His face is a mess of tears and snot and blood, and I feel nothing but contempt. I lift his chin with one finger, forcing him to look at me.

 "Which officer is supposed to carry out the raid after you plant the goods at my beach house?"

Michael's eyes dart away. "I don't—"

 "Don't lie to me now, Michael. We're past that as you can see."

 "Officer Sam," he whispers.

I smile to myself. Just as I suspected. Sam's been on my payroll for three years, ate at my table during Christmas, sent his daughter flowers when she graduated university. Another ungrateful bastard who benefited from my generosity but won't hesitate to throw me under the bus at the first bribe from someone offering more.

I stand up, looking at my men. "We owe Officer Sam a special visit. Soon."

 "Okay, boss," they respond in unison.

 "Now we need to decide what to do with this mess in front of us." I gesture casually at Michael as I adjust my coat, already walking away from him.

 "Amiir, please!" Michael's voice cracks. "Give me a second chance. I'll right my wrongs, I swear it. Everyone's just on edge because they think you won't be able to seal your marriage with Lara. They think you won't produce an heir. They're scared about what happens to all of us if the clan elders turn on you—"

I stop walking.

The temperature in the warehouse seems to drop ten degrees. Slowly, I turn back to face him.

 "What did you just say?"

Michael realizes his mistake immediately, his eyes going wide with terror. "I just meant... everyone's worried about the succession, about whether..."

 "My marriage," I say quietly, "is off limits."

The silence that follows is suffocating. Even my men have gone still, understanding that we've crossed into dangerous territory now.

 "I don't give second chances, Michael."

I look at my men and our eyes meet in perfect understanding. They know what needs to happen. They've seen this before.

 "No, no, no—Amiir, please!" Michael's screaming, his voice echoing off the warehouse walls, panic making him loud and desperate. "AMIIR! AMIIR, PLEASE! I HAVE A FAMILY! I HAVE—"

I reach the exit and push open the heavy door, cold night air rushing in to meet me. Over my shoulder, I call back to my men.

 "Do a thorough cleaning. Amiir Blackwood never leaves a mess."

I step outside and the door swings shut behind me, cutting off Michael's screams mid-word.

My phone buzzes. A text from Henry: [*I'm sorry for what I said. I know you're doing the best you can.*]

Guilt twists in my stomach. Henry deserves better than me, better than stolen hours and expensive apologies. But I can't give him more without risking everything. His safety, my position, the fragile balance I'm maintaining.

I don't respond. Because what would I even say?