“Meaning he tried to terminate our business relationship on his own. Without considering the consequences.” Petrov’s slimy smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s when he sustained his career-ending injury. It was an unfortunate accident during practice that could have been avoided if he’d honored his commitments.”
The words hit like a bucket of ice water to the face. They destroyed Zane’s career because he tried to walk away. And now they’re telling me exactly what they’ll do if I don’t cooperate.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m sharing information about past business relationships. Whether you choose to learn from history is entirely up to you.”
“I’m not interested in your business.”
“Perhaps not today. But circumstances change, Mr. Barnes. Career situations evolve. What seems impossible today might seem necessary tomorrow.”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a thin manila envelope. Then he slides it across the table toward me.
“What’s that?”
“Information about your current situation. Your performance statistics, your contract details, your family circumstances.” His voice stays pleasant, like we’re discussing the fucking weather and not his criminal empire. “It’s really amazing what public records can tell you about a person’s life.”
I don’t touch the envelope. “I told you, I’m not interested.”
“Take a look. I think you’ll find it quite illuminating.”
Against my better judgment, I grab the envelope and open it. Inside are photos - me leaving practice, me at the grocery store, me at my parents’ house last weekend. There are also documents - printouts of my contract, my performance statistics, my family’s addresses and phone numbers.
My brother Mark’s construction company. The school where Tessa works. My parents’ home address in Pleasanton.
Jesus Christ.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Research, Mr. Barnes. We believe in being thorough about our potential business partners.”
“I’m not your business partner.”
“Not yet. But these photos were taken over the past several weeks. Your routines are quite predictable. Your family’s routines as well.” He points to a photo of Mark loading equipment into his truck. “Your brother starts work at seven every morning. Very reliable.”
The threat is clear. They’ve been watching me, watching my family, learning our patterns. And now they’re letting me know how easy it would be to hurt the people I care about.
“You’re threatening my family?” I seethe.
“I’m sharing observations about your family’s daily activities. Whether you interpret that as threatening is up to you.”
“Stay away from them.”
“Of course. As long as our business relationship remains cordial, your family has nothing to worry about.”
“We don’t have a business relationship.”
“We do now.” He pulls out another document from a leather portfolio on the table under his newspaper. It’s a contract, several pages long. “This formalizes our arrangement. Fifty thousand dollars per consultation, as discussed.”
“I’m not signing anything.”
“I think you will. Because the alternative is that your family continues to be observed. And observations sometimes lead to interactions.”
“What kind of interactions?”
“The kind that leaves permanent impressions. The kind that Mr. Christensen experienced when he tried to breach his contract with us.”
Motherfucker. They’re going to hurt my family. Just like they hurt Zane. Just like they’ll hurt anyone who gets in their way.
