Page 90 of The CEO's Revenge

“Why not? Your payment is late,” Mr. Sorokin explains in a thickly accented, but polite voice.

Greg passes me my drinks tray and although common sense tells me to move away from the bar area, I can’t help being fascinated as to what’s happening here.

Larry licks his lips. “Um… why don’t you come around to the office. We can talk there.”

“Or we can talk here,” Mr. Sorokin says softly.

“Okay, sure,” Larry says, his palms in a downward placating gesture. “We can talk here. I know the payment is late, and I’m really, really sorry, but you know, sales aren’t what they used to be. Covid, you know? I’ve had to spend a lot to respect the new governmental regulations. I’ve even have to give up some of my tables to social distancing rules. But don’t worry, it’s just temporary. I’ll get the money to you as soon as I can, I swear.”

Mr. Sorokin doesn’t say word. Just looks at Larry with those cold, dead eyes.

Larry tugs desperately at his collar… like it’s choking him. “It’s just temporary,” he gasps nervously.

Then Mr. Sorokin curls his forefinger towards Larry in a beckoning gesture. Larry’s head is shaking as he reluctantly steps forward. It’s like a particularly bad B movie has become real. Lightning fast, Mr. Sorokin grabs the front of Larry’s shirt and pulls him towards him, dragging him halfway over the bar and pressing his deadly calm face close to poor Larry’s sweating, white one.

Jesus! That sure escalated quickly.

I look around me and it seems as if everyone else is too drunk to care or even notice. I try to catch Greg’s eye, but he studiously ignores me. I know I should take my tray of drinks and move on, but I simply can’t drag my attention away from the scene playing out next to me.

Chapter Seven

Amelia

“Did I just hear you say, as soon as I can?” Mr. Sorokin asks with exaggerated pseudo incredulity.

“No, no…I… I didn’t mean it like that. You must know, I didn’t. You’ll have the money. I promise,” Larry says, his voice low and pleading.

“Listen you fuckin worm. Stop talking. The more you writhe and squirm, the more you piss me off.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—,”

“I said, stop talking.”

Larry nods vigorously, the sweat is pouring into his eyes, making him blink owlishly.

“I want last week’s and this week’s packet by Sunday. And by Sunday, I mean this Sunday. Two fuckin’ days from today. And if I don’t have it all, plus the interest, then you know what’ll happen, don’t you?” He pauses, letting the moment drip with menace.

Larry’s eyes bulge like a squeezed frog’s as he nods.

“Say it,” Mr. Sorokin murmurs, his voice silky with enjoyment in his ability to make Larry totally submit to him.

“You will break every bone in my worthless body.”

“Very good.” Mr. Sorokin smiles coldly before he releases Larry.

Then the three men turn as if one autonomous body to head back for the entrance.

Panic seizes me. Oh God, I can’t have Larry know I’ve seen him in such a humiliating position. He will be forced to fire me out of sheer embarrassment. Hastily, I pull my tray of orders from the bar counter and turn away, but I’m so totally shocked by what I’ve just witnessed, my fingers slip and tray jumps out of my hand as if it has a life of its own.

In helpless horror I watch as it flies into the air. In seemingly slow motion, I see the drinks launch into the air. Gold, amber, and white liquids splash upwards and spray everywhere. In a way it is all rather beautiful. Well, at least until the flying glasses meet the hard wooden floor. The crashing sound of the breaking glass echoes across the whole room making my heart stop in my chest.

In my wildest dream I could not have imagined myself in this scenario. Mr. Sorokin’s suit jacket is so absolutely drenched with beer it is dripping from the edges. He turns in slow motion and trains his dead eyes on me.

He is the impersonation of evil.

My insides go cold. “Oh my God. I… I’m so very sorry,” I stutter. “Let me get some napkins for you.”

I turn on my heel to start back towards the bar, but Mr. Sorokin reaches out, grabs my arm, and spins me to face him.

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