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### CHAPTER 6: PAYBACK'S DUE
#### Leon Graves' Apartment – Paris, France
7:30 PM
Leon Graves sat alone in his apartment, the cold glow of his laptop illuminating his face in the otherwise dim room. He had recently received a contract in Frankfurt to eliminate Theodor Krause, with a total payment of €5 million. The contractor had only paid him the upfront payment of €2.5 million, and the remaining payment had yet to be deposited into his account.
His apartment was a stark contrast to the opulence often associated with his line of work. The minimalist decor was deliberate, each piece of furniture chosen for its functionality rather than aesthetic appeal. The walls were bare, save for a single photograph of a mountainous landscape—a reminder of the solitude he often sought.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he typed a simple but direct query to the contractor: “I require the remaining payment.”
He sent the message and waited for a response. The minutes ticked by, each one amplifying the tension. Leon's mind raced with thoughts about the contractor’s potential reaction. His reputation was on the line, and he needed to ensure that his authority remained unquestioned. The silence from the contractor was unnerving, each second that passed fueling his growing frustration.
Leon stood up, stretching his legs as he paced the room. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence, a stark reminder of his isolation. He checked his phone for any notifications, but there were none. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest.
*"Why haven't they responded?"* he wondered, his mind replaying the events of the past few weeks. The contract had been straightforward, and he had executed it with his usual precision. There was no reason for this delay, and the contractor's silence felt like a betrayal.
After some time, without receiving any response, Leon decided to take a break. He grabbed his coat—a black, tailored piece that blended function with style—and headed out for dinner. The cool night air was a welcome relief, and he breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind.
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#### Nearby Restaurant – Paris, France
8:30 PM
Leon chose a small, quiet restaurant a few blocks from his apartment. The dim lighting and soft music provided a welcome respite from the tension. As he sipped a glass of red wine, he couldn't help but replay the events of the day in his mind. The contractor’s silence was a bitter pill to swallow, and it only intensified his unease.
The restaurant's ambiance was soothing, with the gentle clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversations creating a cocoon of normalcy around him. The rich aroma of food filled the air, and for a moment, Leon allowed himself to enjoy the simple pleasure of a well-cooked meal.
*“The contractor betrayed me,”* he thought, feeling the sting of disloyalty. The thought gnawed at him, a persistent reminder of the precarious nature of his profession. Trust was a rare commodity in his line of work, and betrayal was a risk he couldn't afford.
Leon finished his meal in silence, his mind already formulating a plan. He knew he needed to address this situation, but he also needed to be patient. The contractor's arrogance would be their downfall, and Leon would make sure of it. He paid the bill, leaving a generous tip for the attentive service, and made his way back to his apartment.
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#### Leon Graves' Apartment – Paris, France
10:30 PM
Returning to his apartment, Leon checked his laptop again. A notification appeared on his screen. He opened the message, expecting a professional reply. Instead, the contractor's response was swift and dismissive:
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“It’s more than enough for the job you’ve done. Don’t push your luck.”
The words seethed with arrogance. He could feel the insult deep in his gut, not because of the money—but because of what it represented: an attack on his brand. His reputation. Leon wasn't just a killer for hire—he was Renzo, a name that commanded fear, respect, and professionalism. The contractors who came to him knew that, even if they didn't know him personally. They knew better than to try to pull anything, but this one… This one thought they could get away with disrespecting him.
The contractor had crossed a line. And in Leon's world, there was no coming back from that.
He stood by the window, looking out at the city lights. The bustling streets of Paris were a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. With cold precision, he typed a response—but it wasn’t to the contractor. It was just a reminder to himself of who he was. He glanced at his reflection in the dark window, his own icy blue eyes staring back at him.
*“Renzo is not someone to be trifled with,”* he reminded himself.
No words came from his fingers. No reply. He didn’t need to waste his time. The message had been sent, and the message was clear: Renzo wasn’t someone to be trifled with.
But he couldn’t just let this go. His brand meant everything to him, and if he didn’t make this right, the consequences would ripple through his entire career. No one else could see it, but to Leon, it was more than just a matter of money. It was a matter of authority, of trust—of his very identity.
The contractor had tried to strip that away, and now it was time to make them understand the cost.
Leon stood up, his movements deliberate as he closed his laptop. The air in the apartment felt colder, thicker. He wasn’t going to chase this contractor down, not yet. He would wait. But Leon had all the time in the world, and no one who disrespected him ever stayed safe for long.
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#### Leon Graves' Apartment – Paris, France
The Next Morning
Leon woke up early the next morning, determined to start his day on a better note. He needed to relax his body and clear his mind. He began with some stretching exercises, feeling his muscles loosen up. He reached for the ceiling, feeling the pull in his back and shoulders, then bent down to touch his toes, the stretch releasing the tension that had built up overnight.
Next, he moved on to a series of planks, holding each position with steady breaths. His core muscles engaged, and he focused on maintaining perfect form. The physical exertion was a welcome distraction, a way to channel his frustration into something productive.
The morning workout helped him focus and regain a sense of control. Despite the lingering frustration from the previous night, Leon felt more centered and ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead. He couldn’t afford to let emotions cloud his judgment; he needed to stay sharp.
After his workout, he took a quick shower, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of sleep. He dressed in his usual attire—a tailored suit that exuded professionalism and confidence. As he adjusted his tie in the mirror, he took a moment to steel himself for the day ahead.
*"The contractor will pay for their arrogance,"* he thought, his resolve unwavering.
Leon was ready. The game was far from over, and he intended to win.
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End of Chapter 6
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