Chapter 4 - The Debt Collector
It was 1:30 AM when the neon sign of 4th Street Billiards flickered in the pouring rain.
Inside the dim, smoke-filled basement pool hall, Bruno Vance sat at a corner table, drinking cheap bourbon and counting a stack of crumpled twenty-dollar bills. Two heavy-set thugs in leather jackets stood near the door, playing cards on a sticky green table.
"That widow, Sophia," one of the thugs said, taking a drag from a cigarette. "You really gonna send us to take her kid's bed on Friday, Bruno?"
"Damn right I am," Bruno sneered, taking a swig from his glass. "A message is a message. If people see me go soft on a pretty face, every deadbeat in Queens will think they can slide on their interest. She'll find the money. She'll sell her ring, she'll beg her boss, or she'll take out another loan. I don't care if she starves, as long as my principal is paid."
Suddenly, the front door of the pool hall was kicked off its hinges.
The heavy oak door flew inward, shattering the glass frame and slamming violently into the wall.
Before the two thugs could even reach for their coats, Tommy Riggs stepped inside, a suppressed pistol in his hand. Pfft! Pfft! Two swift shots struck the thugs in their legs, sending them screaming to the concrete floor, clutching their limbs in agony.
Bruno jumped out of his chair, knocking his drink over, his hands reaching frantically for a revolver tucked into his waistband.
"I wouldn't touch that," a cold, dark voice echoed from the doorway.
Alessandro Moretti stepped into the pool hall.
He had taken off his wet wool coat. He stood in his pristine charcoal suit, his dark eyes fixed on Bruno like an apex predator observing a rat trapped in a corner. The sheer power radiating from him filled the basement, suffocating the air.
Bruno's hand froze near his belt. His face turned pale as he recognized the face that ruled the New York underworld.
"M-Mr. Moretti?" Bruno stammered, his knees shaking uncontrollably. "Lord... what... what is this? I... I didn't know this was your territory! Did my boys mess up? Whatever it is, I'm sorry! I'll pay whatever fine—"
Alessandro walked slowly toward Bruno's table. He didn't rush. He didn't raise his voice. He reached out and picked up the stack of crumpled bills Bruno had been counting, letting them fall through his leather-gloved fingers like trash.
"You have a debtor," Alessandro said, his tone terrifyingly soft. "Sophia Romano."
Bruno blinked, completely bewildered. "Sophia? The... the maid? She's... she's your worker?"
"She works in my home," Alessandro said, stepping closer until he was inches from Bruno's trembling frame. "Her child breathes the air in my house. And you... threatened to take her bed."
"I didn't know!" Bruno shrieked, backing against the wall, raising his hands in terror. "I swear to God, Mr. Moretti, I didn't know she was connected to you! The debt is canceled! It's gone! Forgiven! I'll tear up the papers right now!"
Alessandro stared at him, his face an unreadable mask of cold stone.
"Her husband owed you fifty thousand dollars," Alessandro said quietly.
"No! No debt! She owes nothing!" Bruno cried out, tears of terror mixing with his sweat.
"No," Alessandro corrected him smoothly. "The debt remains. But the debtor has changed."
Alessandro reached into his inner suit pocket, pulled out a gold fountain pen, and a blank check from his personal account. He wrote a figure swiftly, signed his name with a flourish, and slapped the check onto Bruno’s chest.
Bruno looked down at the check.
$500,000.00.
"Five hundred thousand?" Bruno whispered, his mouth agape. "Mr. Moretti... her debt was only fifty..."
"Fifty thousand is for the debt her husband left," Alessandro said, his dark eyes burning into Bruno's very soul. "The remaining four hundred and fifty thousand is for her apartment. For her furniture. For every night she sat in the dark worrying about her daughter."
Bruno looked up, hopeful for a brief, foolish second. "You're... buying her freedom?"
"I am buying her peace," Alessandro said softly. Then he leaned down, his voice dropping into an absolute, chilling whisper. "And with this payment, I buy your complete and total departure from the city of New York."
Bruno froze.
"If you are seen in Queens, in Brooklyn, or anywhere within a hundred miles of this city after sunrise tomorrow," Alessandro said, tapping the heavy gold ring on his finger against Bruno's collarbone, "I will not send my men. I will come for you myself. Do you understand me?"
"Yes! Yes, Mr. Moretti! I'll leave tonight! I'll leave right now!" Bruno practically sobbed, clutching the check to his chest.
Alessandro turned his back on him, stepping over the groaning thugs on the floor as he walked back toward the shattered doorway.
"Tommy," Alessandro called out without looking back.
May you like
"Yes, boss?"
"Burn this place to the ground."
