| One Fucked-Up Business Transaction

𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘

Lucio smiled and then suddenly called out, "Mr. West. how's it hanging?"

"Really?" I frowned at him, and he shrugged.

"Amateur," I mumbled then walked up to the man who had been on my hit list ever since we discovered his identity. John West. Fifty-two years old. CEO of West Enterprises, oil magnate, self-proclaimed art collector, and family man. Family man, my fucking ass.

"John West." I started to circle him hanging naked from a chain tied around his ankles. "Do you know why you're here?"

Since his mouth was taped shut, he shook his head, his eyes wide with fear.

I reached out and ripped the tape off his face. "Talk."

"Who the fuck are you?"

I shrugged and then punched him in the gut, sending him swinging in the other direction. "Let's be respectful, shall we?"

John cringed. "Respectful? Do you call hanging someone upside down, naked, respectful?"