Chapter 4 - The Debt Collector
Lorenzo Moretti operated out of a sleazy meatpacking plant on the south side. The air smelled of copper and decay.
Victor walked through the heavy plastic curtains, flanked by Dante and four heavily armed enforcers. Moretti’s men tensed, hands dropping to their waistbands.
Moretti, a bloated man with a cheap cigar clenched in his teeth, looked up from his ledger. “Victor. To what do I owe this honor? You’re out of your zip code.”
Victor didn’t sit. He threw a heavy manila envelope onto Moretti’s desk. It landed with a dull thud.
“Fifty thousand,” Victor said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Plus ten percent for your trouble. Sofia Vargas’s debt is settled.”
Moretti looked at the envelope, then let out a raspy laugh. “The maid? You’re playing knight in shining armor for a cleaning lady? That’s touching, Vic. But the debt is actually seventy-five grand now. Late fees.”
Victor leaned forward, planting both hands on the desk. He locked eyes with the loan shark, projecting the terrifying aura that had earned him the title of the syndicate’s most lethal boss.
“You misunderstand me, Lorenzo. That envelope isn’t a negotiation. It’s a severance package. You will erase her name from your books. You will never speak to her, look at her, or breathe her air again. If one of your goons even drives down her street, I will personally feed you to the stray dogs in your own alley.”
May you like
Moretti’s smile vanished. He nodded slowly, pulling the envelope closer. “Understood. But you’re getting soft, Victor. And soft bosses don’t last.”
“Try me,” Victor whispered.
