Page 9 of Stolen Compliance

It’s tedious work, but someone has to do it. Each area is marked and checked, and almost all of them come up as they should.

On the second to last lot, some of the packages come up short. Most would probably let it go; it’s negligible at best, but when every other package before it was perfectly measured, these tiny discrepancies add up.

Looking at the man before me, I narrow my eyes. “You think we’re stupid?”

“Sir?”

“I didn’t stutter. Answer the question.”

“N—no, sir. I know you and the Boss aren’t stupid.”

“Then why are your weights off?”

“I…I don’t⁠—”

I speak over his blubbering. “See, every other person in here knows how to measure and weigh the product. No more and no less. Or you thought you were clever, a few packages are just a bit more than should be, while others are under. You thought we wouldn’t notice, that we’d let it go. But you’re wrong. So…do you think we’re stupid and wouldn’t ask questions? Or are you just that ignorant?”

“I…sir. I don’t know what happened. I’ve done it the same every time. I am good at my job. I⁠—”

“You using?”

Silence. I look the guy over carefully, not a hundred percent certain just by looking at him, but the way he refuses to meet my eyes and how shifty he’s acting…that’s the logical conclusion.

With a sigh, I pull my gun out, and as he opens his mouth to give some bullshit excuse, I pull the trigger.

His body falls unceremoniously to the ground, and I look around the room full of people. “Make no mistake, I don’t fucking care if you’re a junkie or not, but you know the rules: Don’t come to work high, and you buy your vice, not steal and try to cover it up. Because we will always find out, and you don’t get a second chance.”

Turning to the manager, I gesture at him with my gun. “Did you know?”

“N—no, sir. Of course not! I would have brought him to you myself if that was the case.”

I hum, wondering if I can believe him or not. Gesturing to the table in front of me, I put my gun away, but that doesn’t mean the fucker is safe. “Hand.”

“Sir?”

Reaching for him instead of repeating myself, I grab his left hand and slam it down on the table. Shoving the bundles of drugs out of the way, I pull out my knife.

“You gonna help?” I ask Luca.

He takes over, holding the guy’s hand securely on the table.

“Might want to stand back…don’t want to risk ruining another suit.”

I ignore the pleas from the asshole as Luca angles his body away while still keeping the arm steady for me.

It’s a hack job, my knife not made to cut through bone, but it works. After a few good whacks and sawing through the ligaments, muscle, and bone, the hand is successfully removed. Blood covers the table, the floor, my knife and hands, but that is a sign of a job well done for me.

“You’re supposed to be in charge here,” I tell the crying, worthless piece of shit. “You should know if your workers are using or not. You should know everything about them. Consider this your severance package.” Turning to the people, I say, “Your new boss will be assigned by the end of the day.”

Collecting my things, I make my way out of the building, Luca hot on my heels. We climb back into the car, and I look at him, noting a little blood got on his cheek, but deciding it suits him. “That what you mean when you say you and your precious Master get your hands dirty?”

I don’t really care about his answer, as shown by the way I pull out my phone to coordinate pulling new candidates to run this operation, and updating Sergio on the fuckery. My long day just got longer. Perfect.

Clenching my teeth essentially becomes my job as I follow Dominic around, acting like a good little boy. What he sees as success is merely inefficiency. He thinks he’s a big dog, swinging his dick everywhere he goes. Makes me wonder how much he’s overcompensating.

There should be no reason that, as a Second, he needs to go do some of that shit. Checking the very basic numbers, moving product himself, hell all of that just proves that Sergio doesn’t have control of his men. Having to use Dominic as a fucking enforcer… pathetic. Hell, a captain could do his job.

Of course, Il Padrone is smarter—far more strategic. The use of Boys may look foolish to Dominic, but he’ll never understand the tightness that comes from those bonds. Here there may as well not be any bonds, merely a disgusting form of mind control, a savage debasement of being stripped of all humanity until it’s only the depraved pleasures of flesh that gets anything done.