"Fuck, what are we even doing here?" asked a man wearing a fitted cap, a baggy tee, and jeans held up by his hands.
"It's not like we had a choice," a huskier man grumbled. "I can't believe you got your brother involved, though. That junkie ruined everything!"
"It wasn't me!" a high-strung man replied, itching at his various track marks on his arm, eyes darting around the dark room.
"Shut up! Both of you! Fuck! If we're here, we gotta beg for our lives, or we're in some deep shit! You've heard rumors about what they do to people!" the capped man said in a hushed tone, rubbing his hands together fervently to try to stay warm. "Fuck, why the hell is it so cold here?"
The husky man groaned loudly, "We're underground, dipshit. How many stairs did it take for us to get down here? Fuck. They're gonna beat the hell out of us now."
The cold room was walled with iron and concrete on the floor. Other than a single dim light hanging in the center of the room, a grand desk and chair were just in the shadows, illuminated faintly in sepia. The three men stood there waiting, shivering in the cold.
They could make out a few men standing in the shadows, but they dared not say anything to them. These men were part of the underground empire, Kings. They dealt in drugs, weapons, trafficking, money laundering, and anything you can think of. They were untouchable at this point. Rumors were whispered that even governments wanted their help or to stay away from them.
The heavy door creaked open, and two sets of shoes clicked on the floor. One was dress shoes, and the other was a pair of heels. A man in a slate gray suit walked in with files in his hands and took his place in front of the desk, standing straight with his feet together, reading through the files. The woman wore a black dress that seemed to cling to her body. She wore a jacket over her arms, too big to be hers or this man's, but she tightly wrapped herself in it as she sat on the plush chair behind the desk. She seemed unamused, her eyes looking around as if she were making sure everything was as it was supposed to be.
"So..." the suited man said in a slight European accent. "My name is Andrei Bouche. I hope you remember my name."
"Andrei?" The man tugged his hat down lower. "What the fuck are we doing here? What is a prissy man like you here?"
Andrei shot up his icy pale blue eyes and slowly raised his head, running his fingers through his slicked-back, platinum hair.
"I'm here because of you. If you have anyone to blame for your presence here tonight, it's your own." Andrei was dismissive of the three men in front of him, going right back to flipping through a document.
"Look, man, we ain't do shit!" the gruff man said through gritted teeth.
"Well... from where we're standing, that's not the case. Have you read through your agreement at all?" Andrei asked, still not looking up.
"That piece of paper we signed? Fuck that. Since when do criminals deal in paperwork and signing? We just shake hands and leave it to God after that."
Andrei sighed and looked back at the woman behind him.
"Would you like to explain or shall I, Sera?" he asked her.
Sera scoffed, standing up slowly, making her way to the three men. She was small in stature; the men seemed to tower over her, though none were above average in height. Though slight, each heel click was intentional. Once she stood in front of them, just out of arm's reach, she crossed her arms, letting the jacket fall slightly open to show the glamorous dress she wore underneath.
"Leave it to God, you say?" she asked mockingly. "You don't even have God in your lives. I believe in agreements, even between criminals. After all, if the courts can grant the greedy ex all the alimony she wants, then I should also be able to do the same exchange. Oh, I don't need to make threats; you've already signed your own fate on paper. God can't help what you've already done. I am your judge and jury.
Sera slowly circled them, examining their confused faces.
"You still don't understand, do you? You agree to the terms and conditions," she said with a giggle in her voice, "something that we all do. And yet, we don't read the fine print, do we?" She sighed, now eyeing their backs. "I don't either, to be honest with you."
"What are you talking about? We didn't sign no terms and agreement," said the brother, his eyes still darting around, "We made an exchange with you. Loan us some money, and we'll pay you back. We're just a little late."
"A little late?" Sera asked, now having made the full circle. "A little late was when our term was due. Waiting until now was just a courtesy. And after all, we had to go find you, too, the least you could do is come here without God holding your hand. Now, listen to Andrei. He has some great news."
"News?"
"Yes." Andrei stepped forward, letting Sera sit on the edge of the desk, legs crossed, and watching intently.
"What is it?"
"The agreement," Andrei said, "under Breach of Contract, it seems you have failed to understand what we've written."
"Oh, please! Like you could do anything? You can't take any of that to court or to the police! Don't you know what we're doing now is a crime?" the capped man asked, crossing his arms.
"Oh, but the legal system believes in the trust of man. We believe in the written word. We gave you a chance, something Andrei had strongly advised me against. But I was there once. Lowly criminal. Just making my way through the world. So, I gave you a chance to get your leg up. The only difference between you and me is that you want to believe in God to hold your hand through this. I believe in the written agreement, and I adhere to it. Just because illegal activities take place doesn't mean there shouldn't be a punishment or reward put in place."
"What the fuck are you talking about? Seriously. Just give us a bit more time! We'll pay back the money."
"All five hundred thousand plus interest?" Sera asked.
She leaned forward, her arms outstretched to keep her steady while she examined the men standing there.
"Fine. So maybe we can't pay it back right now. We can work for you," the older brother said, chest out.
"Work how?" Sera asked, still eyeing the men eagerly.
"Whatever you need. Information. Protection. Collection."
Sera giggled as if she'd heard something a cute joke.
"Information? I have more information on you than you do on each other. You with the hat, Kirk Sanders. Your younger brother, the junkie, Kevin Sanders. And your friend, Darryl Patterson, though his original name was Darryl Langdon before his stepfather adopted him. You all met in foster care. Got in trouble together. Helped each other out in need. When you all grew up, Kirk became an excellent conman, Kevin stayed a junkie, and Darryl went around robbing people. And now you're here because you wanted a loan of five hundred thousand dollars. Kirk, who's normally great at reading people, decided to trust someone to open up a drug business. The conman got conned. Then the rest of your money was used to drink and wallow, but Kevin wanted drugs and spent it all there. And Darryl didn't even have a chance to rob you blind because there was nothing to even take. What a tragedy."
Sera didn't give them a chance to say anything.
"Protection? Do you see the men in this room, and then the men you can't? You couldn't protect me even if you held the machine gun right between my eyes. Collection? I couldn't even collect your money, how do I trust you to collect mine?"
Sera sighed.
"So you see... boys, you see, that's why we have an agreement and why we have a nonpayment clause."
All three grit their teeth, words trapped behind their teeth, and anger of realization.
Sera smiled calmly.
Kirk gritted his teeth. "So what's the good news?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes! Almost forgot. A payment plan! Andrei, tell them how they'll pay us back."
Andrei nodded. "Certainly. Per the clause you agreed upon, you'll be making repayment in the form of your body. Darryl Patterson, who is in good physical health, will contribute organs for repayment. Kirk and Kevin will be sold to any buyers willing to purchase them."
"What the hell are you talking about? Organs? Purchasing?" Kirk growled, taking steps towards Andrei.
Andrei didn't budge, standing tall and looking down at the man.
"Actually, the junkie and this one aren't good looking enough to be sold separately. Sell them as an item package. There's always a crowd for that. Find a broker," Sera ordered.
"Yes, Sera."
Andrei ignored Kirk as he wrote notes down.
"The fuck do you mean sell them?" Kirk shouted in rage.
Sera raised her hand.
Men surrounded the three men, forcing them to kneel. Each one was shouting in confusion, fear, and anger.
"What do you mean you're taking my organs?"
"Sell? What do you mean? Like a prostitute?"
"Get the fuck off me!"
"No! Please!"
The anger turned into fear quickly. Sera's men held them down.
All Sera could do was kiss her teeth. Tsk.
"A shame they're not worth more," Sera muttered.