Gotham: After Dark - The King Slayer Read Free Page B

business and paid Mr. Sabatino his cut without question or complaint. As the two men entered the store, Falcone gestured for Joe to keep watch on the door while he conducted business.
    “Mr. Woo.” Falcone said as he slowly approached the till. “My name is Carmine Falcone, I’m here on behalf of Don Sabatino. You know why we’re here. We’re here to collect our cut.”
    “Yes,” Mr. Woo said as he bowed and disappeared into the back room. The little man returned with an envelope that was packed with cash. As he handed it over to Falcone, he paused for a moment. “I have a small issue I need to discuss.”
    “Such as?” Falcone said as he took the envelope and stashed it into his coat. He didn’t even count it.
    “You’re not going to count it?” Mr. Woo asked.
    “Do I need to count it?” Falcone replied.
    “No.” Mr. Woo said, “It’s all there.”
    “Then I don’t need to count it.” Falcone said as he paused for a moment. “Now what was this small issue you were referring to?”
    Mr. Woo seemed nervous. “The store is going to be closed for at least three weeks next month. I have to go home to visit my father because he’s sick.”
    “And if you’re not making money.” Falcone surmised, “Then we’re not making money either.”
    “That is correct.” Mr. Woo said.
    “I’ll have a word with Mr. Sabatino.” Falcone informed him. “We’ll put our heads together and figure something out for you.”
    Mr. Woo seemed genuinely surprised by the tone the young man was taking with him. It was far more respectful than the previous people Sabatino had sent out to collect. “Thank you.”
    “Thank you for informing us about it.” Falcone said as he turned to Joe who was standing there drinking a can of cola. “You gonna pay for that?”
    “For what?” Joe asked.
    “For what’s in your hand, jarhead.” Falcone called out. “Pay the man for his product and let’s get out of here.”
    “I don’t pay for anything here.” Joe said with a scoff. “No one does.”
    Falcone’s face quickly soured. “What the hell not?”
    “He pays us,” Joe said, “Not the other way around.”
    Falcone had heard just about enough of that as he walked over and slapped the can right out of Joe’s hand. Before Joe could do anything else, Falcone punched him in the face, dropping him to the ground like a sack of potatoes. There was blood all over the place, his nose was clearly broken.
    “This man is trying to run a business.” Falcone said as his voice had a tone of utter disgust. “Where do you think Mr. Sabatino’s money comes from? Mr. Woo doesn’t have a press in the basement to print his own cash. It comes from selling these products. So when you steal from Mr. Woo, you are also stealing from Mr. Sabatino and no one steals from Mr. Sabatino on my watch. We clear on that?”
    “Yes!” Joe cried, trying to stop his nose from bleeding.
    “Now you apologize to this man,” Falcone roared at him. “Right now!”
    “I’m sorry!” Joe called out.
    Falcone grabbed Joe and quickly lifted him to his feet. “Now you pay that man for the soda and anything else you’ve taken for the last few months. You do it now or I’ll beat you so bad you’ll be eating Christmas dinner through a straw.”
    Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten. “That should cover all of it, Falcone.”
    Falcone took the five from Joe and gestured to the door. “Wait outside.”
    Joe never said a word and left the store immediately. Falcone took the ten dollar bill and handed it to Mr. Woo as he walked back to him. “This is for the soda and anything else he took the prior months he was here to collect. Contrary to what others believe Mr. Woo, we are here to protect you, even if that means protecting you from ourselves. If anyone takes something from your store, I don’t care who it is, you tell me about it and I will bring that person back to apologize and pay for what they’ve taken. You’re paying for a