Neilson’s POV:
The waitress brought our food, feeling the oppressive atmosphere around us. There weren’t many occupied tables, only a few. The lights were dimmed, with minimal lights shining through the curtained windows.
He stops laughing, “Why do you want me?”
His stomach growls, but he refuses to eat the food in front of him.
“I can help you.”
He cups his hands together, laying it on top of the table, “Why do you want to help me?”
“Alice.”
“You’re helping me because of Alice?”
“Yes.”
He stood up, “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need your f*****g charity.”
“Even if I can clear the debt with the Russian Mafia?”
He leans forward, “I can do it myself.”
“You think you can clear ten million plus interest by yourself?”
He trembled slightly but held onto his emotionless appearan
