The Don's Prey
This wasn’t extortion money or collections, this was a straight-up mission into fire.
“You’ll be my personal man for this,” Carnito said. He reached into his coat and produced a slim black object, an old-school burner phone, and tossed it across the table. “You work only when I call, you answer only me. No side deals. You get that diamond, you get what you want. You fail…” He let the sentence trail, and the silence filled in the shape of consequences.
“I get it.” I kept my face bland, but inside a dozen gears meshed. This was an escalation, not just in danger but in trust. To be ‘personal man’ meant walking front and center in whatever storm he brewed.
Sikat na Kabanata