DROP TWENTY-TWO
“I need to train and you don’t have a f*****g gym,” she complained, hand resting on her waist. “Not even a couple of sissy weights.”
“Do some push-ups. Run around the block. Leave me the f**k alone,” Hector replied. “I’m threading a very tricky piece of liquid armour that could be completely ruined with the slightest error. And we certainly can’t afford that.”
He finished the delicate task and admired his handiwork. Nice. Then he remembered something was wrong. It was quiet. Patty.
He turned around, and she was gone.
Not that he was clingy, but he realised there was a serious problem with that. He tapped his phone and called Tony.
“Violator speaking.”
“Tony. Hey, I wanted to ask you, what happens if, supposedly, my investment runs off? I can only assume it happens to
