Romeo's POV
He glanced between us both, and Don pulled on his lovely floral apron while I grabbed one of the rubber ones hanging up outside the freezer room door.
“Bring him out,” I called to Don, who obeyed, rubbing his hands together excitedly.
Don unties him, and the moment he does, he runs, bolting out the door, but nothing a punch to the windpipe couldn’t fix. My fist connected with his Adams apple. He gasped, clutching his throat; l gripped his hair and slammed his head into the steel table. He drops to my feet, and Don comes out shaking his head, clicking his tongue before kicking him in the ribs, making him grunt.
“Now listen here, pork chop; I am old and tired and just made over 100 pancakes, so do me a favor and climb up on the steel bench. My back is aching,” Don tells him w
