Chapter 56: Stand Tall, and Don’t Apologize
Fifteen hundred dollars was a significant sum for this era.
When Lance returned to the casino after a brief absence and placed a brown paper bag on the table, Kent’s face lit up with a smug smile. Rubbing his hands together eagerly, Kent reached for the bag. However, Lance pressed it down, preventing him from taking it.
Kent froze, confusion turning to irritation, but something in Lance’s eyes made him pause. Kent eventually understood. “Let them stand up,” he ordered.
A guard kicked Ennio hard in the shoulder, sending him sprawling forward. He struggled to his feet with the help of his companions. The group quietly moved behind Lance. Only then did Lance release his grip on the paper bag.
“You’re a man of principles, Lance. I think we’ll be great friends!” Kent declared, laughing heartily. Anyone willing to hand over fifteen hundred dollars was someone worth befriending in his eyes.
Kent didn’t immediately inspect the bag. Instead, he opened it and inhaled deeply, a look of pure delight crossing his face. “Ah, the smell of money!”
After savoring the moment, he emptied the bag onto the table. The contents spilled out—ten-dollar bills, neatly bundled into rolls of ten, with rubber bands holding them together. Fifteen rolls in total.
Kent used his arms to gather the cash protectively, looking utterly ridiculous as he grinned from ear to ear. He randomly picked a roll, counted it, and nodded with satisfaction. Once the money was back in the bag, his gaze landed on Lance, his demeanor shifting to something smug and disdainful.
“Well,” Kent said, “you can all get out of here now. Consider this fifteen hundred bucks a lesson for your friends.”Lance stood up calmly, adjusting his clothes. With a faint smile, he replied, “I hope you sleep well tonight, Kent.”
Kent scoffed, unimpressed by the veiled threat. “I sleep like a baby.”
Lance said nothing, simply nodding before leaving with the others.
As the group left the casino, Kent’s expression darkened. “Pack up. We’re moving,” he ordered.
One of his trusted guards frowned. “Boss, is that necessary? Business here is good.”
Picking his nose nonchalantly, Kent handed the cash bag to his accountant. “The business is fine, but we’ve got a problem now. Staying here isn’t worth it.”
“I don’t fear trouble, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Besides, we’ve been here long enough. It’s time to relocate. Tonight.”
The guard didn’t argue further, nodding obediently. “You’re the boss.”
Kent wasn’t afraid of Lance reporting him to the authorities or the Kodak Family. He had solid connections with local police—last month, he’d met with the precinct chief and his assistant. For a few dozen dollars a month, the cops turned a blind eye and even warned him of impending trouble.
His ties to the Camille Gang, via his brother, further bolstered his confidence. Still, resolving the fallout would cost money and favors. Worse, his brother would kill him if things escalated.
With Kent’s orders given, his crew began packing. They had a truck for their essential items—gambling tables and equipment. Everything else was disposable and replaceable.
Meanwhile, outside the casino, as soon as they reached the surface, Ennio blurted out, “I’m sorry.”
Lance stopped abruptly, grabbing Ennio by the back of the neck and pressing their foreheads together. His expression was stern. “Don’t apologize to me, Ennio.”
The others froze, startled by Lance’s sudden intensity. They already felt the weight of their mistake, especially after witnessing Lance hand over such a large sum of money to save them. Fear gnawed at their insides.
Summoning his courage, Ennio clenched his teeth. “I’ll pay you back, Lance.”
“And how will you do that?” Lance asked, ruffling Ennio’s hair roughly. “Pay me three dollars a month for the next fifty years? Great joke. You’ve got me laughing.” ℝἁℕOΒÈꞩ
Releasing him, Lance turned to the group. “I’ve told Elvin and Ethan before: if someone slaps you, and you don’t hit back, they’ll kick you next time. Maybe even crap on your head.”
“They’ll know you’re a coward who won’t retaliate.”
“If you don’t want that, remember this: blood for blood, tooth for tooth.”
“Shame can only be washed away with blood. Hatred can only be resolved through destruction. Standing here trembling like quails and apologizing won’t fix anything!”
“What we’ll do is take back that fifteen hundred dollars—with interest!”
“They broke your arm and beat you to a pulp. We’ll return the favor twice over.”
Taking a deep breath, Lance continued. “Kent and his crew will move soon—probably in the next two days. Watch them closely. Find out where they go, where they stay, and where they sleep.”
“Can you do that?”
Ennio’s expression hardened, his voice firm. “I’ll do it. I swear.”
Lance patted his cheek and handed him two hundred dollars. “Get your arm checked out, buy some clothes, and keep an eye on those bastards for me.”
Turning to the group, he asked, “Anyone here know how to ride a bike?”
A young man raised his hand. “I do, Lance.”
“Good. Get a bike. If they drive off, follow them, but don’t let them spot you.”
“Listen up, everyone,” Lance said, his tone sharp. “I don’t care what you’re thinking—whether you want revenge or not. But for me, this isn’t over!”
“No one beats you, takes my money, and walks away to live happily ever after. No one!”
“Call me if you find anything.”
After giving a few more instructions, Lance left.
Fifteen hundred dollars—was it a lot? Absolutely. But earning it back wouldn’t take long.
There’s a saying: the most profitable businesses are written into criminal law. There’s some truth to that.
Back at the office, Elvin approached Lance as soon as he arrived. “I heard Morris came by. Did something happen?”
Lance explained the situation briefly. Fury flashed across Elvin’s face.
Lately, Elvin had grown more confident, thanks to the group’s increasing unity and financial success. Even when faced with trouble, they believed one thing: Lance would have their backs.
“What’s the plan?” Elvin asked.
Lance sat at his desk, lit a cigarette, and exhaled slowly. “This money wasn’t a free gift. Kent will pay dearly for it.”
Elvin’s jaw tightened. “What do you need us to do?”
“Focus on your tasks for now. I’ll let you know when it’s time to act.”
Later that afternoon, Ethan returned to the office, visibly excited. “Lance, guess who I saw?”
Lance, distracted, replied absentmindedly, “Who?”
“The punks who beat us up in the Bay District! I saw them!”
The news electrified the group, many of whom were back in the office to avoid the midday heat. Anger simmered as they heard Ethan’s report.
Lance’s frustration with Kent burned hotter. The casino boss would have to wait—now it was time to deal with these street thugs.
Grabbing a duffel bag filled with bats from the storage room, Lance prepared to head out. “Let’s go,” he ordered.
Some would ride in cars; Lance drove himself. Watching the group mobilize, he realized something: they needed more drivers.
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