My Last $20 Saved A Bleeding Stranger — I Had No Idea I Just Bought The City’s Deadliest Mob Boss
Part 2
I stammered that I already spoke to the beat cops about the shoplifters from last month.
Higgins chuckled a dry, rasping sound and pulled out a grainy black and white photograph from his stained coat.
In the frozen frame, I was handing the plastic bag to the tall, dark-haired stranger.
Higgins snarled that he didn’t care about petty shoplifters as he stepped aggressively into my personal space.
He demanded to know if I had any idea who the man in the photo was.
I honestly replied that I had no idea and explained he just came in to buy some basic first aid supplies.
Higgins’s dull eyes narrowed into vicious, hateful slits.
He grabbed me roughly by the collar of my thin uniform and slammed me hard against the metal shelves.
He hissed at me to stop lying, foul spit flying from his chapped lips.
He told me the man was Brian Russo, the undisputed head of the Russo syndicate.
Higgins revealed Brian was supposed to bleed out in an alleyway three nights ago.
He claimed his wealthy employers paid a massive fortune to make sure Brian didn’t walk away.
Higgins said the word on the street was some little convenience store rat patched the boss up.
My breath vanished from my lungs as I realized I had bought a cheap loaf of bread for the king of the criminal underworld.
I cried out that I truly didn’t know who he was, tears stinging my eyes as I begged the corrupt detective to let me go.
Higgins pressed his heavy forearm against my throat, choking me as he demanded to know where Brian was hiding.
A quiet, smooth voice echoed from the front of the aisle, colder than the bitter ice on the pavement outside.
It stated calmly that I already told him I didn’t know anything.
Higgins froze in absolute terror and slowly turned his head.
Standing at the end of the aisle was Brian Russo, dressed in an immaculate, custom-tailored charcoal suit.
His stormy gray eyes were sharp, lethal, and locked entirely on the corrupt cop.
Flanking Brian were two massive, intimidating men in dark suits.
Higgins immediately released me, stumbling backward in frantic surrender.
Brian interrupted his panicked excuses with a deadly calm voice, stating simply that Higgins had touched what belonged to him.
Brian gave a subtle nod, and within seconds, his enforcers dragged the struggling, terrified detective toward the back exit.
I slid down the metal shelving unit in shock, my legs giving out completely as I hit the cold floor.
Brian walked toward me slowly, his heavy dress shoes clicking rhythmically against the cheap linoleum.
He gently tilted my chin up, his thumb brushing lightly over the angry red mark Higgins’s forearm had left on my neck.
He murmured my name in a low, soothing rumble and told me his survival came with a heavy price.
He stated clearly that this city was no longer safe for me.
He told me I had saved his life, and now he was going to save mine.
He declared that I belonged to the Russo family now and commanded me to come with him immediately.
As the armored SUV sped toward his fortress, I stared at the man whose life I’d bought with a twenty-dollar bill, wondering if I had just traded poverty for a gilded cage I would never escape?
