Page 109 of Hate to Love You
I tilt my head toward him.
“You know, I got to be honest, kid,” I sigh. “They have a point. That’s a hell of a story.”
“Kill him! He’s a snitch!” Boris yells in the back of the crowd, followed by the cheers and murmured agreement.
“I’m not! I promise!” Trevor pleads, his voice cracking. “I thought it was a strange request, but they offered me money when the job was done. And you know, I don’t make much money as a waiter and—”
“Shoot the snitch!” Another voice calls from the rowdy crowd. “Kill him!”
“Oh, God,” Trevor cries, burying his wet face in his hands. “I get it! I know now I fucked up, but if you’re going to do it just, please do it quickly.”
The crowd around me is like a pack of wild dogs, hooting and hollering for this man’s demise. It’s what makes them terrifying soldiers in my little army.
But it’s also what makes them wrong. And in my experience, feral mobs rarely ever make the right choice.
Once again, I raise my hand in the air and the room around us goes silent. I stare at Trevor, before clicking my tongue in my mouth.
“Here’s my dilemma, Trevor,” I say quietly, leaning in and placing my hand on his shoulder. “As you can see, my men, well, they’re very loyal to me. So, I can’t just let you go, because then they won’t be satiated without seeing you receive some sort of punishment, because they feel that what you did was unforgivable.”
He whimpers, folding his shaking hands together.
“But the thing is,” I grin. “I don’t have to listen to any of them. Because as you said yourself. I’m Roman fucking Antonov. And around here, well, I’m God. I’m the one who makes the rules. And if I decide to spare your life, not a single one of them can touch you.”
His eyes widen.
“Please!” He begs. “I’ll do anything you ask! Literally anything. I promise!”
“See, I believe you,” I smile at him. “But here’s the thing. I’m going to need some sort of confirmation that your promise isn’t just some heat of the moment thing. You know that you’re not going to say one thing to my face, and then go running back to Cillian. Or the police. Because that would be just bad business.”
“Please, Mr. Antonov,” he begs. “I have no intention of ever going back to the McCleary’s, and I’m no snitch. I made a mistake, but I know I can be of use to you. I…I’ll join you! In whatever this…this thing is! If you just give me a chance, I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll be your man for life.”
“For life, huh?” I ask as I stare at him, weighing the option in my mind. “That’s a big promise, you know.”
“I mean it,” Trevor says, his eyes finding mine.
“Alright, kid,” I say. “I’ll give you one chance to prove yourself. But it’s going to be here, and now.”
Trevor nods excitedly.
“Come,” I command, my voice echoing in the silent room.
Obediently, Trevor limps along behind me as we walk over to the other prisoner in the room, who sits a few feet away with a bag over his head.
“Cal,” I say, staring at the man as he appears beside me. “Who the fuck is this?”
I kick the foot of the prisoner, and his muffled screams begin to echo against the warehouse walls.
“Boss, this is Todd Steinbeck,” Cal says plainly. “He’s a Wall Street Investor, for Steinbeck & Associates, which is Cillian McCleary’s wealth management firm.”
“And why is he here?” I ask, already knowing the answer but deliberately asking so Trevor can hear.
“As I understand it, he’s the man who is in charge of the majority of Cillian’s mutual funds and stock exchange investments. The same funds he’s leveraging as collateral for the Walston Street deal.” Cal explains.
“Steinbeck & Associates, huh?” I ask, rubbing my chin. “Any chance they are associated with Stein & Co., the holding company for the Walston Street property?”
“That’s what Ana thought, Sir,” Cal nods. “Turns out they’re distant cousins. Cillian probably thought he was being smart.”
“But Ana was smarter,” I grin. “As always.”