Well, I guess it’s time someone educates him since the private school he went to all those years ago clearly failed.
“Oh God,” he repeats. Though it’s more a whimper than a whisper this time.
“Not quite,” I say. “Want to guess again?”
“Mr. Russo,” Joe stammers, sweat already beading on his forehead. “I… I wasn’t expecting you. I thought—”
“You thought I’d send my men again,” I say, my voice calm as I take the seat across from his desk. “You thought you’d get another extension. Another empty promise.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Is that what you thought, Joe?”
Ian remains next to Joe’s chair, hands resting heavily on the man’s shoulders to keep him seated. Colin locks the office door before taking up position beside me.
“Please, Mr. Russo, I can explain,” Joe begs, his words tumbling out in desperate bursts. “The market’s been volatile. My investments haven’t matured as quickly as projected. I just need another month… two at most. Then I’ll have the full amount plus interest.”
I tilt my head, studying him with the detached coldness of a man deciding how much pain is necessary. “That’s the same song you sang in December. And January.” I check my watch. “It’s February twentieth now, Joe.”
“I know, I know,” he nods frantically, his eyes darting between my face and my holster. “But I can give you something now. A good-faith payment. Fifty thousand today, the rest in two weeks.”
His desperation fills the air like cheap cologne, cloying and offensive. I remain silent, letting the weight of it press down on him until sweat drips from his temple to the collar of his shirt.
“I have a family,” he whispers. “A wife. Two daughters in college.”
“I know.” My voice drops lower, quieter. “Meredith. Beautiful home in Shaker Heights. Alyssa at Northwestern, Elizabeth at Cornell. Expensive schools.”
His face drains of color as I recite the details of his life. The reminder that I know exactly where to find the people he loves if he keeps wasting my time.
“Please,” he tries again. “Just let me transfer the fifty now—”
I draw my gun and shoot him in the right kneecap without changing my expression.
Even with the silencer on, the gunshot echoes in the confined space, followed instantly by Joe’s agonized scream. Blood sprays, spattering the framed family photo and other items scattered on the floor. He clutches at his shattered knee as his howls fill the office.
Ian clamps a hand over Joe’s mouth, muffling his screams.
“Transfer the full amount now,” I say, my voice still conversational. “Or the next bullet goes through your wife. Then both your daughters. One by one, until you understand that I’m not a man who negotiates.”
Tears stream down Joe’s face as Ian removes his hand. His breaths come in ragged gasps. “Okay,” he chokes out. “Okay, please, I’ll pay everything. Just don’t… don’t hurt them.”
Instead of telling him whether I plan to follow through on the threat, I gesture toward his laptop near his feet with the barrel of my gun. “Do it now.” With trembling hands, Joe grabs said laptop. “Make sure he’s only doing what I tell him to,” I say to Ian.
Ian nods. “He’s logging into his banking portal,” he confirms.
Even with his leg being a mess of blood and splintered bone, fear drives Joe to log in and transfer the full two hundred thousand plus interest to the designated account.
“It’s done,” he gasps, turning the screen toward me. “Everything. Please.”
I pull out my phone, waiting for the confirmation notification. When it appears, I nod to Ian, who checks the transaction details to ensure everything is in order.
“Looks good, boss,” Ian confirms.
“All you had to do was pay what you owed,” I say, my tone low and dark. “But instead of acting like a man, you behaved like afucking cockroach. Hiding in the dark, jerking me around, and hoping I’d forget about the money I lent you.”
“That… that…” Joe trails off. I’m guessing the pain is becoming too much.
“All you had to do was pay,” I growl.
Without another word, I aim the gun at Joe’s left knee.
“Wait…” he begins, but I’ve already pulled the trigger.
