Page 44 of Sweet Deception

His eyes darkened with realization. “Gleb... Are you here to kill me?” His hand slipped beneath the table. A second later, he pulled out a gun, gripping it tightly but not yet aiming it.

“Guards!” he shouted, preparing to call out again.

“Don’t.” My voice cut through the air like a knife.

He hesitated.

I tilted my head, watching him carefully. “That candy you just ate. I smiled, slow and deliberate. “It’s laced with a substance that will kill you. Slowly. Painfully.”

His fingers clenched around the wrapper. His breathing quickened.

“You...” His hand trembled as he pointed at me. “You poisoned me?”

“Your sons are old enough to take care of themselves.” I checked my watch. “Soon, you’ll start feeling numbness in your limbs. First, partial paralysis. Then full stroke. You’ll be trapped in your own body, useless for weeks, maybe months. Plenty of time to reflect. To regret.” I met his desperate gaze. “To wish you never stepped foot in my house.”

Antonio laughed dryly. “You think this scares me? I’ve survived worse.”

Then he sways slightly. His fingers tremble. His breath comes quicker. “What... What the hell did you do to me?”

I want to watch him claw at his throat, scramble for help, call whoever he could, like a helpless, dying animal. I wanted to see the regret in his eyes, the moment he realized he should have never laid a hand on my wife.

But I had places to be.

No one would be able to prove I killed him. But they’d suspect. And suspicion alone was enough to keep their hands off her.

My wife is mine. No one else.

“Goodbye, Uncle.”

His final words followed me as I turned to leave.

“My sons will come for you, Gleb. The entire family will.”

I barely spared him a glance. “You won’t be alive to witness it.”

And with that, I left.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the exchange site. Ten of my men were stationed around, armed as always.

As soon as they saw me, they greeted me with the usual forced politeness.

“When will they be here?” one of my men asked.

“In two minutes,” my consigliere replied. I nodded and pulled a cigarette from the pack, lighting it as I leaned against the car’s hood.

Deals like this could go south in seconds. One mistake, one miscalculation, and we’d all be lying in a pool of our own blood. But death doesn’t scare me. I’ve already lost everything that mattered.

Two black SUVs rolled onto the scene, headlights cutting through the misty night. The doors swung open, and the Chicago men stepped out, rifles slung across their chests.

One of them carried a metal case. Small, but worth over ten million dollars in product.

“Hey,” the leader greeted, his voice sharp.

My consigliere took a step forward. “Is our shipment intact?”

“And our weapons?” the Chicago boss countered.

“Yes.” My consigliere gestured toward the truck we had stationed. The deal was simple, our weapons for their drugs.