Before anyone could do anything, Spade pushed through the door, ushering a wave of Demons in behind him while the others spread out to keep watch.
“Out,” Spade growled at the two other customers, who immediately complied, gathering their paperwork and rushing out the door before Spade locked it behind them. As soon as the lock clicked, the masked Demons all unholstered their guns.
“Put your hands up and come out from behind the desk,” I said with a serene smile. I glanced at the nameplate. “This could have gone so much easier, now couldn’t it, Glenn?”
“None for you, Glenn Coco,” Spade said, and I had to swallow the laugh that threatened to burst free.
A hint of a smile played on my lips as I glanced back at him over my shoulder, which only made his Cheshire-like grin grow even wider. I really didn’t peg Spade as a Mean Girls fan, but I guess you learn something new every day.
“W-what?” Glenn sputtered, following his coworkers out from the desk. Glenn wasn’t a Mean Girls fan. I’m honestly not surprised by that.
Kellan and a few other Demons stormed the hall, gathering all the other employees from their offices, including the manager, Mr. Miller.
His face paled as he locked eyes with me, his Adam’s apple bobbing just like Glenn’s had.
“My reputation must precede me,” I preened, stalking toward my prey. Miller’s stomach protruded from his too-tight belt, his beige suit jacket barely large enough to cover him.
His thick mustache quivered as he tried and failed to conceal his fear. “Ms. Bardot.”
“Good.” I pushed him back with a palm to his chest, and he nearly toppled over. He caught himself just in time, his glassy eyes pleading with me. “Sorry about all the dramatics, but I’m sure you’ll understand I’m a busy woman, and when your man Glenn refused to fit me into your schedule, I had to insist.”
Miller shot Glenn a baleful look, apparently regaining some of his composure. “I’m sorry for the trouble. My door is always open to you.”
“Good, let’s head to your office then.” I nodded to Kellan, who spun Miller around, his gun pressed into the man’s back as he led him back to the office with his name etched into the gold placard on the door.
“Cellphones in the bag.” Spade’s order echoed from behind me as I followed Kellan. Good. We didn’t need any of them alerting the cops or the Barones.
“Is the gun really necessary?” Miller whimpered.
“Yes,” I said simply. Now that we had the guns out, there was no way I was going to have the guys put them away. In the split second it took to pull them back out, he could trigger a silent alarm, and this would all be for nothing.
He opened the door with a trembling hand, and Kellan ushered him in first. His office was far more opulent than you’d imagine for a small-town bank manager. His massive oak desk was far too big for the medium-sized office. Top-of-the-line Italian leather chairs sat on either side, with a marble bust displayed in the corner along with a few pieces of priceless artwork. I sneered as I glanced around, knowing exactly who had provided him with the luxurious fixtures. He was firmly under Angelo’s thumb after all.
“Stay back from the desk,” Kellan ordered as Miller took his seat, and he nearly plowed into the bookshelves behind him in his rush to comply.
“W-what is it I can help you with?” Miller stuttered, placing his hands in his lap awkwardly as though he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
Kellan stood beside him, keeping the gun trained on the manager as he pinned him with a menacing glare.
“I’d like to make a withdrawal, of course.” I placed my bag on the desk and leaned back, propping my red-bottomed heels on the varnished wood.
“A—a withdrawal?” His furry eyebrows crept closer together.
“Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “A withdrawal from my joint account. You know, the one you allowed Tommaso to dump all my savings into even though he wasn’t on my personal account.”
He blanched, glancing around the room nervously as he pulled on the collar of his too-tight shirt. “I—I—”
“I don’t need your excuses.” I slid my feet off the desk so I could lean across it. “Since I’m on the account, the money in there is mine now since Tommaso is dead.”
“I can’t,” he wheezed. “Angelo will kill me.”
“He might.” I shrugged. “But if you don’t do what I’m asking, there’s a hundred percent chance Kellan will put a bullet between your eyes. Isn’t there, babe?”
“Oh, definitely.” He grinned, the glint of delight shining in his eyes that he always tried to hide. He placed the barrel against the man’s temple. “My trigger finger is just itching to press—”
“Okay,” Miller interrupted, tremors shaking his entire body. “I’ll do it; just make it look convincing when we’re through.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, relaxing back in my chair. I wouldn’t do that. Miller deserved everything he had coming to him, and if Angelo took care of him, that would be one less thing off my plate. “How much can you give me in cash today?”
