A single sentence silenced Heller.
"Think what you will, do what you want, Poli, since you're rejecting my good will, I'm not going to interfere anymore."
"Besides, give me the money, we had an agreement," he was pissed off but ultimately gave in, after all he believed Poli might actually bring a group over to kill him that night.
The disdainful laughter coming through the receiver made his blood pressure rise again, his eyes even reddened a bit.
Since becoming a gang leader, when had he ever been subjected to such humiliation?
"Once I've sold this batch of liquor, I'll give you the money, or you can come to my office and get it now."
"I'm too lazy to talk with you, come before noon, or wait till I sell it all," he said.
The busy tone had Heller slamming the receiver down on the base of the phone.
The son of a bitch, he cursed, lighting a cigarette.
