Chapter 2 - THE DEBT THAT WASN’T HERSCharmian Flannery entered Vincent Costa’s office still wearing her gray maid uniform.
The bruise beneath her eye looked darker in daylight.
She had covered the split in her lip with makeup, but Vincent could still see it. More importantly, she kept her right hand tucked behind her back, hiding the bandages he had ordered her to put on.
Aleandro White closed the door behind her.
Charmian glanced at him, then at Vincent.
“Mrs. Gable said you wanted me.”
Vincent pointed toward the chair.
“Sit.”
“I’m working.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
She sat.
Vincent pushed the manila folder across his desk.
Charmian saw her own name.
Her face changed.
“What is this?”
“Your brother owes Anton Petrov forty thousand dollars.”
Every bit of color left her face.
She stood immediately.
“I should go.”
“Sit down.”
“You had me investigated?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“So is washing blood out of a college shirt in my kitchen at three in the morning.”
Charmian froze.
Vincent watched the anger replace fear in her eyes.
“You went through my things?”
“You left it in my sink.”
“That didn’t give you permission.”
“No.”
His answer surprised her.
Vincent leaned back.
“But three men beating one of my employees because her brother owes money gives me a reason to ask questions.”
Charmian looked toward Aleandro.
“You told him?”
Aleandro adjusted his glasses.
“I’ve never met you before today.”
That somehow made it worse.
“You people followed me?”
Vincent’s expression remained cold.
“Charmian.”
“What?”
“Stop asking questions you already know the answers to.”
Her eyes glistened.
“I can handle it.”
Vincent stared at her.
“You’re nineteen.”
“I’ve been handling things since I was twelve.”
“That doesn’t make you qualified.”
Her jaw tightened.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
Vincent tapped the folder.
“I know your mother died when you were fourteen. I know you spent four years moving through foster homes. I know you graduated near the top of your high school class. I know you’re studying business administration at St. Jude’s and working two jobs because financial aid doesn’t cover rent.”
Charmian’s face burned.
“And I know you missed a midterm yesterday because the Petrovs had you cleaning one of their warehouses.”
She stared at him.
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Vincent stood.
“Then understand this part.”
He walked around the desk.
“Your brother’s debt is not yours.”
“You don’t know Tommy.”
“I know enough.”
“He’ll come back.”
Vincent almost laughed.
“Your brother left you behind to be beaten by loan sharks.”
“He didn’t know they would—”
“He borrowed from the Petrovs.”
Vincent stopped directly in front of her.
“He knew exactly what they were.”
Charmian’s eyes filled.
She hated that because some part of her knew he was right.
“I can pay them.”
“With what?”
“I have jobs.”
“Forty thousand dollars at their interest rate?”
Vincent shook his head.
“You could work until you’re thirty and still owe them money.”
“I don’t have another choice.”
“You do now.”
Charmian looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Vincent turned toward Aleandro.
“Call Anton.”
Aleandro took out his phone.
Charmian stood.
“No.”
Vincent looked back.
“What?”
“Don’t.”
For the first time, real panic entered her voice.
“You don’t understand. If they think I told someone—”
“They know who I am.”
That stopped her.
Vincent stepped closer.
“And by lunchtime, they’re going to remember exactly what that means.”
Twenty-five minutes later, three black SUVs rolled through the gates of the Costa estate.
Anton Petrov arrived with four men.
His nephew Viktor was among them.
Charmian recognized him instantly.
Her breathing changed.
Vincent noticed.
Viktor noticed too.
He smiled at her.
That smile sealed his mistake.
The meeting took place in the library.
Anton was fifty-eight, broad and silver-haired, wearing a suit that strained around his stomach.
“Vincent.”
“Anton.”
They did not shake hands.
Anton noticed Charmian standing near the fireplace.
Understanding appeared.
“Ah.”
Vincent’s eyes hardened.
“Careful.”
Anton smiled.
“Your little maid has caused confusion.”
“She hasn’t caused anything.”
“Her brother owes us.”
“Her brother owes you.”
Anton shrugged.
“Family.”
“No.”
Vincent poured himself coffee.
“Not how debt works.”
Anton laughed.
“In our business?”
“In my territory.”
The smile disappeared.
Vincent continued.
“You operate card rooms because I permit them. You make loans because I permit them. You move money through my docks because I permit it.”
Anton’s face tightened.
“Do not confuse permission with independence.”
Viktor stepped forward.
“You called us here over some girl?”
Charmian flinched.
Vincent saw it.
He looked at Viktor.
“You’re the one who hit her.”
Viktor shrugged.
“She wouldn’t cooperate.”
The room became very quiet.
Anton closed his eyes briefly.
He understood before his nephew did.
Vincent walked toward Viktor.
“How much has she already paid?”
Nobody answered.
Aleandro opened a ledger.
“Eight thousand four hundred dollars in cash and labor.”
Charmian stared.
“What?”
Aleandro looked at her.
“They’ve been counting your labor at twenty dollars an hour while charging the debt twelve percent weekly interest.”
Charmian’s mouth opened.
Vincent turned toward Anton.
“You weren’t collecting.”
His voice dropped.
“You were trapping her.”
Anton spread his hands.
“Business.”
Vincent looked at Charmian.
“Did you borrow money from them?”
“No.”
“Sign anything?”
“No.”
“Guarantee your brother’s debt?”
“No.”
Vincent turned back.
“Then we’re finished.”
Anton’s expression hardened.
“You don’t erase forty thousand dollars because you like a maid.”
“I’m not erasing anything.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“Tommy owes you forty thousand.”
“If you find Tommy, collect from Tommy.”
“And her?”
“You never speak to her again.”
Viktor laughed.
“Or what?”
Anton whispered, “Viktor.”
Too late.
Vincent looked toward Aleandro.
“Cancel Petrov dock access.”
Anton stood.
“Vincent.”
“All three terminals.”
“You’re joking.”
“Do I look entertained?”
Anton’s face changed.
Without Costa-controlled access, Petrov operations would hemorrhage money within days.
“Over a waitress?”
“Maid,” Charmian whispered automatically.
Everyone looked at her.
Even Vincent.
She immediately regretted speaking.
Something almost resembling amusement touched Vincent’s eyes.
Then disappeared.
Anton turned toward Viktor and slapped him across the face.
“You idiot.”
Viktor stared.
Anton looked at Vincent.
“The debt stays with Tommy.”
“Correct.”
“She is untouched.”
“Correct.”
“And dock access?”
Vincent waited.
Anton understood.
He turned toward Charmian.
“My organization will never contact you again.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Good enough?”
Charmian could barely speak.
She nodded.
Vincent turned toward Anton.
“Access restored tomorrow.”
The Petrovs left.
Charmian remained.
When the library doors closed, she looked at Vincent.
“You didn’t pay them.”
“No.”
“I thought you were going to.”
“Why would I reward them?”
She swallowed.
“You just cost them more than forty thousand dollars.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“No.”
The answer hurt unexpectedly.
Vincent saw it.
“I did it because rules matter.”
Charmian gave a bitter laugh.
“You’re a criminal.”
“So are governments on bad days.”
Aleandro coughed to hide a laugh.
Vincent ignored him.
“My point is that Tommy made the debt. You didn’t.”
Charmian looked down at her bandaged hands.
“What happens when Tommy comes back?”
“He deals with what he created.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And you’re his sister.”
Vincent’s voice softened by almost nothing.
“Why didn’t that matter when he ran?”
Charmian had no answer.
Vincent returned to his desk.
“Go to class.”
She looked up.
“I missed the midterm.”
“Then arrange another.”
“My professor won’t—”
“Ask.”
“And if he says no?”
“Then you learn something useful about failure.”
Charmian frowned.
“What?”
“That sometimes it happens.”
He picked up a document.
“And then you keep moving.”
She reached the door.
“Charmian.”
She turned.
Vincent looked at the bruise on her face.
“If Viktor Petrov comes within fifty feet of you, call Aleandro.”
“Not you?”
“I’m considerably less patient.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she left.
Aleandro waited until the door shut.
“You like her.”
Vincent slowly looked up.
Aleandro reconsidered his life choices.
“I’ll go restore the dock access.”
He reached the door.
Vincent spoke.
“Find Tommy.”
Aleandro stopped.
“I thought you said his problems were his own.”
“They are.”
Vincent looked toward the door Charmian had just used.
“But I want to know why a twenty-three-year-old addict managed to borrow forty thousand dollars from men who usually wouldn’t trust him with forty.”
Aleandro’s expression changed.
“You think the loan wasn’t about Tommy.”
“I think someone wanted leverage.”
“On Charmian?”
Vincent looked down at her file.
A nineteen-year-old maid.
A college student.
No money.
No family influence.
No obvious value.
Which meant something was missing.
“Find out.”
That afternoon, Aleandro discovered it.
Charmian’s mother had not always been poor.
Before she died, Evelyn Flannery had worked as an accountant.
May you like
For the Costa family.
And three days before her death, she had stolen a financial ledger containing enough evidence to destroy half of Vincent’s empire.
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