Page 44 of Ruthless Lullaby

It takes every ounce of my willpower to not throw the fucking table at him and snap his neck.

"Thirty fucking percent.” I punctuate every word, giving him a cold stare. “Not a cent more. Last chance."

I watch as he processes the offer, his ratty brows furrowing, cranking the gears in his pickled brain. I can’t believe the size of the pile of shit he’s under, yet he’s still trying to negotiate. It makes my blood boil.

"Fine," he mutters finally. "I'll take it."

I nod curtly. "Damn right, you will. How much do you need now?"

His eyes widen. "You gonna help, then?"

I nod and take my phone out of my pocket. "Last fucking time. How much?"

"Twenty-four."

"Thousand?"

He rolls his eyes. "What do you think?"

I look up from my phone. "You don't play small, dear brother."

With a few clicks, I transfer him the money, then I place the phone back on the table. Looking into my brother's bloodshot eyes, I start talking.

"I’m only going to say this once, so you better fucking listen. This is no free ride,bratok. You're on probation for the first three months. During that time, you'll get a fixed amount to keep your ass afloat. Perform well, and maybe – just maybe - we can talk about jacking up those numbers a little." Maurice's eyes widen slightly, but I cut off whatever bullshit he's about to spew. "And before you start thinking you've hit the jackpot, you are also going to pay off those debts of yours. Every fucking cent. I'm not running a fucking charity here. Everything you owe me is coming out of your cut until we're square. Am I making myself clear?"

He swallows and nods. "Yeah."

"Good. Now, here's what's going to happen. You will drag yourself home, pour out whatever booze you got tucked away, and sleep this shit off. Then, tomorrow morning nine o'clock sharp, your ass will be planted in my office. And for fuck's sake, put on some decent threads. You look like a hobo that crawled out of the sewer. Got it?"

He nods, seemingly submitting to my terms. But I’m not done yet. I take a deep breath and level him with my hardest stare.

"And one more thing. That ex of yours, Mindy. Forget about her. I'm serious, Maurice. The way you are now, you're nothing but bad news foranywoman stupid enough to give you the time of day. Unfuck your life first, then think about draggingsomeone into your shit." He opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but I raise a hand, silencing him. "I’m not done. This is your shot, bro. A chance to turn your life around and finally make something of yourself. But I'm warning you - you fuck this up, and we're done for life. You hear me? I won't be your brother no more. I'll be the guy who runs your worthless ass out of town. We clear?"

Maurice meets my fierce gaze, something like determination sparking in his bloodshot eyes. "Crystal. I won't let you down again, Maron. I swear it this time."

I snort derisively. "I've heard that song before. I need to see it to believe it. Don't make me regret this." I wave a dismissive hand toward the door. "Now get the fuck out of here.”

He nods solemnly and sees himself out, shutting the heavy door behind him with a thud.

I sink back into my chair and rub my temples, allowing my shoulders to relax. Dealing with Maurice's bullshit gives me a migraine every fucking time. But despite it all... he's still my brother. I know I couldn’t live with the thought of not giving him a chance, which is the very reason I allow him to crawl back to me over and over again, begging for my help. That thought alone makes me grit my teeth. I can only hope he learns something and finally stops his decade-long streak of royal fuckups.

The door opens and Pavel marches in. “Everything alright, boss? I saw Maurice leaving your office." He can't help but smirk. "He seemed a lot more sober than when he walked in. Did he finally come to his senses?”

"We’ll see," I reply curtly.

Pavel arches an eyebrow but remains silent, waiting for me to elaborate.

"He has this dumbass notion that he can somehow slither his way back into her ex-girlfriend's life if he works hard enough at fixing himself up."

Pavel frowns. "Can I ask why you care about that, boss?"

"Because she is… my chief accountant."

Pavel stares at me dumbly. "Oh, I get it." He scratches his chin. "Ok, maybe I don't."

Snorting derisively, I knock back a healthy swig of vodka, savoring the slow burn down my throat. "Maurice getting Mindy Williams back is about as likely as my father returning from the grave," I continue, "But still, I want to be on the safe side."

A crease forms between Pavel's brows as he considers my words. "I’m listening, boss," he says carefully.“What do you want me to do?”

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