Paying the Debt

The door slowly opened, revealing another, larger, and more luxurious hall. I stepped on the black, glittering marble floor and slowly looked around at the walls ornamented with silver and golden patterns and crystal chandeliers. Then my eyes drifted to the black and white leather sofas where the VIP guests of the restaurant were, mainly drinking, smoking cigars, and discussing all kinds of things I surely didn't want to know about.

“Mr. Aslanov sits in the right corner of the room,” said the concierge, who suddenly materialized next to me. He pointed at the two sofas on the right and the gray-haired man in the black suit. The man looked like he could be in his late sixties, but the dark aura around him screamed not to underestimate him.

I swallowed and slowly walked across the hall toward him. My heart hammered, threatening to burst through my ribcage, but I refused to show fear. I raised my chin and focused on my steps. My heels clanged each time I hit the marble with every step I t