He didn't need any help. He gritted his teeth against the searing pain in his fractured shoulder and stood to his full height. He brushed the gravel off his heavy denim jeans. He stood tall, the brutal tattoo on his chest fully exposed to the cold night air.
He didn't look like an old man anymore. He looked like the center of gravity in a very deadly room.
A man in a dark tailored suit stepped forward from the line of SUVs. He approached Leo respectfully, holding out a long, heavy black coat. Leo took it with his good arm, draping it over his injured shoulder to cover his torn shirt, hiding the tattoo from the cold.
Leo walked forward. His boots crunched slowly, methodically against the pavement until he was standing directly in front of the kneeling billionaire.
“Richard,” Leo said softly.
Vance shuddered, closing his eyes tight. “Sir.”
“Your boy stepped on my phone,” Leo said, his voice calm, conversational, completely void of anger. “And he stepped on my bike.”
“He is a fool, sir,” Vance stammered, the words rushing out of his mouth in a desperate panic. “He’s arrogant and stupid. He didn't recognize the ink. He didn't know who you were. If he had known you were the Judge—”
“It doesn’t matter if he knew who I was,” Leo interrupted softly.
The quiet command in his voice instantly shut Vance up.
“I told him to walk away,” Leo continued, his deep eyes flicking over to the young man, who was now trembling uncontrollably, finally realizing the sheer scale of his mistake. “He didn't listen. Because you raised him to believe that this world belongs to you. You raised him to believe that other people are just meat for you to sell.”
Leo took a slow breath, adjusting the heavy coat on his shoulders.
“I let you operate your little smuggling routes, Richard, because you promised you only moved willing cargo. Contraband. Guns. Cash.” Leo pointed a thick, calloused finger toward the black SUV. “You did not tell me you were moving children.”
Vance’s face drained of its remaining color. “Sir, I can explain—”
“There is no explanation,” Leo said. “The network has rules. I set the rules. You broke them.”
The young man, fully panicking now, turned to Marcus and his bodyguards. “Shoot him! Marcus, shoot him right now! We can kill him and get out of here!”
Marcus didn't draw his gun. Instead, the massive bodyguard slowly unbuckled his gun belt, letting it drop to the ground. He took three steps back, raising his hands in the air, distancing himself from the young man completely. The other two bodyguards instantly did the same. They knew exactly who Leo was, and they knew they were already standing in a graveyard.
“Dad, do something!” the young man screamed, tears of sheer panic welling in his eyes.
Vance finally raised his head. He looked at his son, his eyes filled with a terrifying mixture of grief, rage, and survival instinct.