“Diablo…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It was a mistake.”
Fucking idiot. There was a reason everyone called me Diablo.
“Damn straight,” I told him calmly. “And I don’t give second chances. Fool me once and all that.”
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. He used to be dependable. Now he walked around with white powder on his nose. “I’ll never do it again,” he pleaded.
“Right again,” I offered calmly. “Because you won’t have a chance to fuck me over anymore.”
He knew the rules. He knew my reputation. He stuck his hand in my pocket and helped himself to my money. If he had come to me and asked for a loan, that would have been one thing. But stealing from me would never be tolerated.
“Please, Señor Jeon,” he pleaded, his knees bouncing frantically. “I’ll pay it all back.”
I hated being called Señor Jeon. That was my father.
I pulled out my gun, screwed down the silencer, and shot him.
It was the only mercy he’d get.
“Clean up this mess,” I ordered my men and left the enclosed space.
Fuck, nothing ruined your mood faster than this kind of shit.
Pulling out my phone, I made my way upstairs to my office.