Roman p.o.v.
Right now, I am sitting in a private room in one of my pubs in town, with two men sitting across the table in front of me.
“As you are aware, boss, we have been working alongside you for a few months now.”
The younger man spoke up, his ginger curls tucked tightly to his scalp.
“And we still haven't received a paycheck for the raid last week.”
He added, his eyes glossy with fright.
I lean back in the chair, spreading my thighs beneath the table, drinking the whiskey.
Yet, I said nothing. I just stared at the man who had spoken, my face void of emotion.
Then, the second man let out a rough cough and began to speak. I dragged my gaze to the older man, noticing that he is bald and slightly overweight, how was he completing the raids that I had ordered for these men?
“
