The grease on the plates felt thick and gross. Ronan Vale pushed his sleeves up and kept scrubbing. The kitchen of the "Greasy Spoon" café was hot. It smelled like old fish and cheap soap.
"Ronan! Table four needs a refill on coffee! Move your lazy legs!" the owner shouted.
"I'm coming, Mr. Gort," Ronan said quietly. He didn't look up. He just kept working.
Suddenly, the front door of the café opened. The bell jingled. A girl walked in. She wore a bright red dress that cost more than Ronan made in a year. Her shoes went *click-clack* on the dirty floor. She looked like a rose in a trash can.
It was Sasha. Ronan's girlfriend.
Ronan wiped his hands on his apron and walked over. He had a small smile on his face. "Sasha? What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting later."
Sasha didn't smile back. She looked at his wet apron. She looked at the grey dishwater on his hands. She made a face like she smelled something rotten.
"Stop right there, Ronan," Sasha said. Her voice was cold. "Don't come closer. You smell like garbage."
Ronan stopped. "I'm sorry. I've been working a double shift to save money for your birthday gift."
Sasha laughed. It was a mean laugh. "My birthday gift? What can you buy me? A plastic ring from a vending machine? A used book?"
"I'm trying, Sasha. Things are hard right now," Ronan said softly.
"Things are always hard for you, Ronan! You've been a loser for twelve years!" Sasha yelled. Everyone in the café stopped eating. They all looked at them. "I'm done. I'm tired of being the girlfriend of a dishwasher."
"Sasha, please. Let's talk outside," Ronan pleaded.
"There is nothing to talk about," Sasha said. She turned around. "Leo! Come in!"
A tall man walked in. He wore a suit that glittered under the lights. He had a gold watch on his wrist. He looked at Ronan like Ronan was a bug he wanted to step on. This was Leo, the rich friend of Ronan's cousin, Marcus.
"Is this the guy?" Leo asked Sasha. He put his arm around her waist. Sasha leaned into him.
"Yes," Sasha said. "This is the loser."
Leo looked at Ronan and grinned. "You're a joke, man. Look at you. You're covered in filth. Sasha deserves a real man. Someone with a bank account, not a dish sponge."
Ronan stayed calm. He didn't yell. He didn't move. "Is this what you want, Sasha?"
"Yes," Sasha snapped. "Leo bought me this dress today. He bought me a diamond necklace. What did you give me? A sandwich? We are over, Ronan. Don't ever call me again."
Leo reached into his pocket. He pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar bill. He crumpled it into a ball and threw it at Ronan's face. The paper hit Ronan's cheek and fell into the dirty dishwater.
"There," Leo laughed. "That's more than you make in a week. Consider it a tip for staying away from my girl. Go on, pick it up, dishwasher!"
The people in the café started whispering. Some laughed.
"Pick it up!" someone shouted.
Ronan looked at the money floating in the grey water. He slowly reached down. His hand went into the water. He pulled out the wet hundred-dollar bill.
"See?" Leo shouted to the café. "He has no pride! He's a dog!"
Sasha rolled her eyes. "Let's go, Leo. This place makes me feel sick."
They walked out. The bell jingled again.
Ronan stood there holding the wet money. His face showed no emotion. He walked back to the kitchen.
"You okay, kid?" Mr. Gort asked, looking a bit worried.
"I'm fine," Ronan said. "I'm taking my break."
Ronan walked out the back door into the dark, rainy alley of Black Harbor. The rain was cold, but he didn't feel it. He walked to the end of the alley where the streetlights were broken.
A tall, massive shadow moved. A man stepped out. It was Jax. He was six-foot-five and covered in scars. He looked like a nightmare.
Jax looked at Ronan. He saw the wet money in Ronan's hand. He saw the sadness in Ronan's eyes.
"Boss," Jax said. His voice was like rolling thunder. He pulled out a heavy black handgun. "Do I kill Leo tonight? I can make him disappear before the sun comes up."
Ronan looked at the wet hundred-dollar bill. He slowly tore it in half.
"No," Ronan said. His voice was cold as ice. "Killing him is too easy, Jax. I want him to watch his world burn first."
"What are your orders, Boss?" Jax asked, bowing his head.
Ronan looked toward the rich part of the city, where the lights were bright.
"Let him be happy for three more days," Ronan whispered. "Let him feel like a king. Then, we take everything. Every cent. Every house. Every breath of his pride."
"And the girl?" Jax asked.
Ronan's eyes turned dark. "She wanted a man with money. We will show her what real wealth looks like. But by then, she will be nothing but a memory."
Suddenly, Jax's radio chirped. He listened for a second, then looked at Ronan.
"Boss, the street scouts just called. Five cars are entering the slums. They aren't ours."
Ronan narrowed his eyes. "Who are they?"
"They have the Vale family crest on the doors," Jax said.
Ronan's heart skipped a beat. The family that threw him away ten years ago. The family that left him to die in the dirt.
"They're early," Ronan said.
**Cliffhanger:**
"They aren't just here to talk, Boss," Jax said, looking at his phone. "They're heading straight to the café. And they've brought the 'Cleaners' with them."