Chase Me

Chapter Fifty-Four: Job

Marco

I pressed the two sides of the blades together, cutting the tip of the cigar before snapping back the spark wheel of the lighter and lighting the RyJ. I took a long drag, leaning back in my chair and taking in the spectacle in my office. "Name?"

Francesco and Leonardo hauled the man off of the floor. He couldn't have been more than eighteen years old, shaking like a leaf. He pushed his glasses up and swallowed. "Joseph Amari, s-sir."

I puffed out a cloud of smoke, tilting my head. "Gabriele's son?"

He nodded, glancing up at the two men holding him by his shirt. He looked back at me. "A-am I in some sort of trouble, sir?"

My lips quirked and I set the cigar down in the ashtray before going for the file on my desk. I flipped through. "Have you been talking, Joseph?" He shook his head, eyes wide and staring at me. I flipped a page. "Because I've heard that you have."

He shook his head, more adamant. I could see his chin quivering from here. "I haven't talked to anyone, sir."

I hummed and flipped another page. "Not many people can lie and expect good fortune from me."

"I'm not lying, sir, I swear. I haven't spoken to anybody."

I closed the blank file and set it on the desk. "We're missing money, Joseph."

His eyes became wider and I saw that quiver in his chin pick up. "I-I wasn't going to—I mean that there wasn't a reason to–"

"You stole from us, Joseph."

The boy started crying. "I'm sorry, sir, my Papa—he was sick and I had no money and I needed to get him medicine and I didn't know what to do–"

"Take him to the Blank room. Lowest floor."

Leonardo and Francesco yanked him up to stand and the boy actually yelped. He was trembling and babbling. "Sir, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I won't do it again, I just needed the money, I'm sorry–"

I flicked my wrist, dismissing them, and picked up my cigar.

"Please, sir! Please! I promise I won't do that again!"

I shook my head, inhaling deeply before blowing out the smoke. "I know you won't."

Francesco glanced at the boy and then at me. "We won't have a doctor." I glanced at him. He pointed to the crying mess he was holding. "If we get rid of him we won't have a doctor, sir. Gabriele only has one son and we don't want any outsiders."

I nodded, eyes stuck on Joseph. Then I hummed. "Okay. Don't kill him. But make him wish for it."

Joseph was pulled out of my office, sobbing and scared. You couldn't steal from the mob. There was no way. You would always get caught and the consequences were always brutal. You try to run? It'll catch you. You lie? It'll make you beg. No way you could get away with it.

Francesco came back into the room. He stood there for a moment, looking at the floor. "It was only a few hundred, Boss."

"A few hundred and the nerve to take it." I set my cigar down, deciding that that was enough for today. "And I don't need you telling me how to do this job."

I reached into a drawer and picked up a wad of cash before tossing it over the desk, watching it hit the floor. I tipped my head, eyes on Francesco. His eyes went to the floor and then he knelt to pick up his payment. He straightened, fixing his shirt, dismissing our previous conversation. "That bad of a day, huh?"

Francesco was my right hand, liking to stay behind in the bushes and watch from afar. "I don't need you reminding me." I pulled at my cuffs. "You can leave."