Chapter 7 - The Cartel's Promise
The sirens grew deafeningly loud outside the restaurant's heavy front doors.
Tariq turned to his newly acquired guards. "We are leaving through the kitchen service exit. We have no business with the American FBI today."
The guards nodded, keeping their weapons trained on Grant as they backed toward the rear doors.
Before Tariq disappeared into the shadows, he stopped and looked down at the weeping, utterly broken man on the floor.
"The FBI is going to put you in a maximum-security cell, Grant," Tariq whispered, his voice vibrating with a dark, demonic promise. "You might think you are safe there. But my syndicate has men inside every federal prison in this country. You stole from us. And we will collect our debt in the dark."
All the color violently vanished from Grant’s face. He wasn't just going to prison. He was going to a slaughterhouse, and he would have to spend the rest of his miserable life looking over his shoulder for a shiv in the yard.
Tariq tipped his head respectfully toward me. "A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Sterling."
The cartel boss vanished through the service doors, taking the armed guards with him.
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Grant was left entirely alone on the floor of his favorite luxury restaurant, completely isolated, stripped of his wealth, and waiting for the authorities to drag him to hell.
👉 The heavy dining room doors violently burst open, and the arrogant mafia boss was finally humiliated in public.
