Page 5 of That Mafioso Magic
I adjusted my vest and tie, then turned around to face her. “Who do I have to kill?”
“Maybe you don’t have to do anything that drastic, but it’s been reported that one of your employees is behind on his loan,” Shi explained.
Oh yeah, I also dealt with loan-sharking. I sighed. Why did people insist on fucking with my money? “Who?”
“John Millson,” she said.
I frowned. “Who?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, he is forgettable. He borrowed money from you about three months ago. Five grand.”
“Is he the one that offered to suck my cock for the money when the bank was about to repossess his car?” I asked, needing just a little more clarification, as his face was starting to come back to me. Of course, I rarely turned down a blowjob, but I never mixed business with pleasure. So, his offer actually had offended me at the time, but I’d let it go. Desperate people do and say desperate shit, and I guessed he really loved his car.
“Yes, got behind on his bills for whatever reason. Well, he hasn’t paid us back like he said he would.”
“Bring him here… Better yet, I’ll go to him. Need some fresh air.” I grabbed my suit jacket off the back of my chair and slipped it over my shoulders. I enjoyed dressing fashionably. The clothes made the man, in my opinion. My tie alone cost more than what most people made in a month and my shoes, even more. I worked hard; I had earned the right to look and smell this damn good.
I followed Shi as she led the way out of my office. She was carrying the suitcase with my money in it to deliver to Jennifer when I was done conducting my business with Mr. Millson. Once outside, Nadia pulled up in my black Bentley. Shi opened the back door and I climbed inside. Shi took her place beside Nadia in the front passenger seat. I looked at my Rolex, it was a little after four in the afternoon. I had plenty of time to handle my business and get back home to get ready for my date. I crossed one leg over the other and settled comfortably into the custom leather seat. This was just one of my cars, one I didn’t drive myself. Now,my Lamborghini, Maserati, and Aston Martin, I didn’t let anyone touch. Those were my babies.
I looked out of the window as we drove through the north side of Chicago to the more residential areas. We stopped in front of a three-story, multi apartment building. All brick with some nice landscaping in front. A few bushes, flowerbeds, enough to add to the curb appeal. Shi got out and opened my door. I climbed out and adjusted my suit, then made my way toward the front door. I pressed the doorbell for “Millson” and waited.
“Who is it?” a female asked.
“Sage Tamir, John’s boss,” I said.
The next voice that came over the intercom wasn’t the female.
“Mr. Tamir, I’ll be right down,” John said, not giving me a chance to respond, so I waited for him to come to me.
I stepped back as he came to the front door, opening it and coming out. “Mr. Tamir, I know I’m a bit behind on paying you back. I swear, I haven’t forgotten… it’s just I don’t have any money to spare.”
“That was your problem the first time when you swore to pay me back. You’re three months behind and I think I’ve been very patient.” Truth was, that five grand wasn’t being missed. I’d attended campaign dinners where the plate cost more than that. It was the principal of the matter. Motherfucker owed me money.
“You have, Mr. Tamir,” he placated as he held both hands up as if praying. Maybe he was.
“When you make a promise to someone, you’re supposed to keep it. That’s how trust is established. What if I had promised to loan you the five grand, then reneged?”
“I only have a hundred dollars in the bank. I don’t get paid until Friday and it has to last me and my family for the next three days.”
“And then?” I asked, one eyebrow cocked, because this wasn’t the first time I’d heard a sob story from someone thinking they could get one over on me.
“I… I have to pay for my daughter’s medicine, which is really expensive. And the rent,” he said.
I snorted. “I think I should have a look at this child of yours that’s costing me money.”
“She’s very sick and—”
“I wasn’t asking permission.” I made sure the tone of my voice left no room for negotiation.
“Please, Mr. Tamir. I beg you, please don’t hurt her.”
And he still tried me.
John looked up at me with those pitiful brown eyes, as if that would sway me from handling my business however I saw fit. He knew I was a shark when he had gotten in the water and he still took that chance. He’d be lucky if he survived with a missing limb.
“Now,” I pressed. “I won’t ask again.”
He nodded slowly, then used his keys to open the heavy glass door. I followed him up six flights of stairs to his third-floor apartment. I entered and took a look around. Immediately, I could smell the sickness that permeated throughout the apartment. All right, so it would seem Mr. Millson hadn’t been lying about having a sick daughter. Still, I needed to see her situation for myself.
