The man just looked at him, not making any move, his eyes tranquil.
"You done...?"
La Garra was even more furious when he heard the question, but seeing the man so calm, he took a seat, but the frown never left his face.
"Now, like I said, you can either pay me the money or lose your product." The man leaned forward, clasping his fingers, "Now, what will it be...?"
His question lingered in the room, La Garra not answering immediately.
'This fucking old geezer, Fuck!!!.…. I'm losing too much money; I will be short on my payment this month if things continue like this.'
His face twisted into a snarl that could terrify even a grown man.
'I need to find the fucker who's doing this...'
As the silence dragged on, La Garra's snarl gave way to a steel-eyed glare—he was already imagining the bastard's face when he found him
But his face relaxed, and a sigh of defeat escaped his lips.
*SIGH*
"Fine. And how much will it be?" La Garra asked, his voice a bit lower but still cold.
