Page 21 of The Debt

“I want the casino, and you’re going to make sure it happens.”

The words hit Harold like a gut punch as he choked out a nervous laugh. “You’re mad. Polov agreed to add an additional ten percent for me on the price he pays. Ten percent above the commission I already earn from the seller! Do you have any fucking idea what that amounts to? Do you honestly think I’m going to throw that away and risk my neck for you?” He added an expansive gesture to illustrate his point.

“This is Atlanta. Consider it the private domain of one very powerful and unmerciful tyrant. Your reckless intentions to trespass on his territory will only have fatal consequences for you. You’ve been warned. You would do well to heed my words.”

“A stirring message, Harold.” Jarek’s resolve didn’t waver from the threat of violence. “Now, listen carefully. I’ll offer you the same deal—ten percent additional on the purchased price. But I’ll also throw in an additional two percent of the annual profits of the casino for as long as the place belongs to me. At a minimum, that’s an extra three to four million a year in your pocket.”

Harold froze as the numbers sank in. For a moment, Jarek glimpsed a look of possible reconsideration from a man who knew how to beat the odds. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared. It was made plainly clear with the shake of his head that he feared the risks more than any monetary reward that Jarek offered.

“You don’t understand what you’re asking. Polov would kill me. He’d kill both of us. This isn’t a game, Dark One. He’s not the kind of man you cross.”

Jarek met Harold’s gaze with the cold, unyielding stare of a man who never backed down.

“I always get what I want, Harold, and besides, I’m a ghost, remember.” He gestured to his face. “What you see here is a façade. Once I walk away, it changes. You won’t be able to identify me, neither will he, especially since the deal will be secured using a closed corporation shell company. No one will ever associate me with the deal… or the Somerville Irish Gang, for that matter.” His chin tilted an inch higher.

“Let me sweeten the deal a little more—one million cash the moment the deal is signed. Either you make your life easier and guarantee this happens, or I’ll find someone who will.” Jarek stepped into Harold’s personal space to drive the point home. “You can become a multi-millionaire in a short space of time or end up diving into dumpsters for your meals.”

Harold’s breathing quickened again. He glanced toward the bluff’s edge, as though searching for an escape route.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered in a pleading tone. “Polov’s resources, his connections... he’ll find out. He always finds out. I’ll be a dead man.”

Jarek straightened. “Not if you’re clever. Obviously, the ownership details of the closed corporation owning the shell company can’t be disclosed. So, Polov will never know you switched sides or that you were even involved in the casino being sold to someone else. You’ve hidden bigger secrets for worse men, haven’t you? Besides, there’ll be other deals, other opportunities to pacify him. For one, I heard a rumor that Atlanta Resort is looking to sell. It’ll be the perfect pacifier to offer Polov.” He tilted his head as his piercing gaze locked Harold in place. “And as for protection... I’ll take care of that. You’ll be safe, Harold. Safer with me than you ever were with Polov.”

Harold stared at him as he weighed the offer. With his lips pressed into a thin line, his beady eyes flickered again as the promise of untold wealth was dangled before him.

“One million additional in cash and two percent of annual profits.” His voice edged sharply as he did the math. “That’s a lot of money.”

“It is,” Jarek said evenly. “And it’s all yours as long as you deliver.”

Harold wrestled with the enormity of the consequences he faced. “And if I don’t?” he finally whispered.

“Failure to agree isn’t an option.” Jarek’s expression hardened. His tone left no room for doubt. “Either you make this happen, or I make sure you’ll never work another deal in your life. It’s your choice.”

Harold nodded slowly. “Fine,” he muttered bitterly. “I’ll do it. But if this goes south—”

“It won’t,” Jarek interrupted in a firm voice. “As long as you do your part, Mr. Harold, you’ll be fine. You need to understand one thing—this isn’t just business for me. It’s personal, so losing this deal isn’t an option.”

Chapter Eleven

Tatiana

TAP United Logistics, Fulton Industrial District, Atlanta…

Tatiana lowered her coffee cup, eyeing Levin Jackson across her glass-topped desk. His tall frame filled the visitor’s chair with the same easy confidence he’d shown during his interview twelve years ago. Time had added a few creases around his eyes, but those keen hazel orbs still assessed everything with razor-sharp precision.

“We never had any aspirations to expand outside of Atlanta. Why now, all of a sudden?” His fingers drummed against the tablet in a manner that had started during their early days when they had worked out of a cramped office with secondhand furniture.

Tatiana studied her COO, remembering why she had hired him. Two years after completing his MBA, with dual specialization in logistics and economics, he arrived in Atlanta during the peak of the recession. While other candidates had showcased their achievements, Levin presented solutions to TAP’s operational challenges. She had been impressed by his strategic mind and ability to analyze problems and construct working solutions that cut through their problems like a knife.

She’d offered him a bare-bones salary with a promise.“Work as hard as I do, and we will both reap the rewards.”He had taken her words to heart, and within eighteen months, he’d streamlined their operations, modernized their tracking systems, and they had quadrupled their revenue. When profits stabilized, she made him COO with a fifteen percent stake in the company.

“We’ve dominated Atlanta long enough.”

Levin leaned forward as his analytical mind kicked in. “This feels different. More urgent.”

“The economy is unstable,” she responded after a sip of coffee. “Fuel and labor costs are rising. Small companies with little operating capital are shutting down or are being bought out for pennies on the dollar by predatory investment firms who, in turn, stage hostile takeovers, then sell off what’s left of the assets for huge profits. We need to diversify before the storm hits.”

But that wasn’t the only reason or even the whole truth. Her grandfather’s pressure to marry Barto Petrov grew more worrisome with each passing day. She needed options and a way to protect everything she had built without bending to his will. TAP was her life’s work. The thought that it would end up being used as a dowry in an arranged marriage was anathema to her.

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