Chapter 2: The Wrong Answer
The man was crying.
I hated when they cried.
"Please, Mr. Cross, I can explain—"
I held up one hand, and Marcus went silent. His face was bruised, one eye swollen shut. Blood dripped from his nose onto the concrete floor. Two of my men held his arms, keeping him on his knees.
We were in a warehouse by the river. My warehouse. The place where I handled problems that couldn't be fixed with words.
"You stole from me," I said quietly. My voice echoed in the empty space. "Fifty thousand dollars. You thought I wouldn't notice?"
"I was going to pay it back! I swear, I just needed—"
"Time?" I walked closer, my shoes clicking against the floor. "You needed time? Marcus, you've worked for me for three years. In three years, did I ever refuse to help you when you had a problem?"
He shook his head, tears mixing with the blood on his face.
"When your daughter needed surgery, who paid for it?"
"You did, sir."
"When your wife left and you couldn't make rent, who helped you?"
"You did." His voice cracked.
"So when you needed money this time, why didn't you just ask me?" I stopped right in front of him. "Why did you steal from me instead?"
Marcus looked at the floor. "I was ashamed."
"Ashamed." I let the word hang in the air. "So instead of being ashamed in front of me for five minutes, you chose to betray me. To spit on three years of loyalty. To make me look weak in front of my entire organization."
"I'm sorry—"
"Sorry doesn't give me back my money. Sorry doesn't fix the fact that now everyone knows Marcus Chen stole from Dante Cross and lived to talk about it." I turned to my men. "If I let him walk out of here, what happens?"
"Everyone steals," said Vincent, one of my most trusted soldiers. He was built like a truck and twice as mean.
"Everyone steals," I repeated. "Because they'll think I'm soft. They'll think I'm weak. They'll think they can take advantage of me." I looked back at Marcus. "I can't let that happen. You understand why, don't you?"
Marcus was sobbing now, his whole body shaking. "Please, I have kids, I have—"
"You should have thought about your kids before you stole from me."
I nodded to Vincent. He pulled out his gun.
Marcus screamed. "Wait! Wait! I can give you information! I know things!"
I held up my hand again. Vincent stopped.
"What kind of information?" I asked.
"The Italians. The Rossi family." Marcus spoke fast, words tumbling over each other. "They're planning something big. A move against you. I heard them talking at the docks last week."
Now he had my attention. The Rossis had been quiet for months, too quiet. I'd been waiting for them to make their move.
"What kind of move?"
"They're bringing in someone from New York. A hitter. Someone with a reputation. They want to take you out, take over your territory."
"Who's the hitter?"
"I don't know his name. I just heard them say he's arriving next week."
I studied Marcus's face, looking for lies. He was terrified, desperate. But his eyes were steady. He was telling the truth.
"Vincent, let him go."
Vincent looked surprised but released Marcus's arm. Marcus collapsed onto the floor, gasping.
"You're going to work for me now," I told him. "You're going to go back to the docks, keep your ears open, and tell me everything the Rossis are planning. Every detail. Every name. Every date. Can you do that?"
Marcus nodded frantically. "Yes, yes, I can do that."
"And the fifty thousand you stole?"
"I'll pay it back. Every penny. With interest."
"You'll pay back double. One hundred thousand. And Marcus?" I crouched down so we were eye to eye. "If you betray me again, I won't ask questions. I won't listen to excuses. I'll just kill you. And then I'll kill everyone you love. Do you understand?"
"I understand." His voice was barely a whisper.
"Get out."
Marcus scrambled to his feet and ran for the door like the devil was chasing him. Maybe I was.
After he left, Vincent turned to me. "You think he's telling the truth about the Rossis?"
"Yes." I pulled out my phone, checking messages. "He's too scared to lie right now. But put a tail on him anyway. If he runs, you know what to do."
"Yes, sir."
My phone buzzed with a call. Romano, my underboss. I answered.
"What?"
"Boss, we need to talk about the collections." Romano's voice sounded tired. He was getting old, thinking about retirement. "We've got about thirty loans due this week. Most people are paying on time, but there are a few problems."
"Handle it." I started walking toward my car.
"There's one case you should know about. New borrower, meeting with you today at 2 PM."
I stopped walking. "I don't take meetings with borrowers. That's your job."
"I know, but this one came through Maria Gonzalez. You remember her cousin?"
"The woman with the sick daughter." I did remember. I'd loaned her money for the surgery, and she'd been paying me back faithfully for a year. No problems, no excuses. "What about her?"
"Her coworker needs help. Young girl, nineteen years old. Mother's dying in the hospital. Needs forty thousand to cover medical bills and keep them from getting evicted."
"So give her the loan."
"Boss, she's a teenager who works at a diner. She's got no collateral, no credit, nothing. She's a massive risk."
"Then don't give her the loan." I was getting irritated. Why was he bothering me with this?
"The thing is... Maria vouched for her. Said she's a good kid, desperate situation, would do anything to save her mother. And you know Maria's been solid."
I thought about it. Maria had been solid. In my business, loyalty mattered more than money.
"Fine. I'll meet with her. If I like her, we'll work something out."
"You sure? I can handle—"
"I said I'll meet with her." I hung up.
Vincent caught up with me. "You're really going to meet with some teenager about a loan? Since when do you do that?"
"Since I'm curious." I climbed into my car. "Someone who's willing to walk into my office knowing what I am, knowing what might happen... that takes guts. I want to see what she's made of."
"And if you don't like her?"
"Then she walks out with nothing, and we never think about her again."
But as I drove back toward the city, I couldn't shake a strange feeling in my gut. A feeling I hadn't had in years.
Something about this meeting felt different. Important.
Like this nineteen-year-old girl working at a diner might somehow change everything.
I laughed at myself. I was getting paranoid. One person couldn't change anything. I was Dante Cross. I controlled half this city. I decided who lived and who died. I was untouchable.
A girl with medical bills couldn't possibly be a threat.
Could she?
My phone buzzed again. A text from my assistant: *Girl confirmed for 2 PM. Name is Lucia Santos.*
Lucia Santos.
I repeated the name in my head, testing how it sounded.
In six hours, I would meet her. I would decide if she deserved my help or deserved to drown in her debts.
Just another piece of business.
Just another day.
So why did I feel like I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life?