“Then you had better find a buyer tonight,” Zo said coldly. “Because if that balance is not settled by eight-thirty-one, my asset-recovery team will seize the deed to the Logan Square strip, the deed to this building, and every bank account bearing your corporate tax ID. You will be stripped down to the clothes on your back, Finch. You will be sleeping in the alley behind this very tenement, picking cigarette butts out of the slush.”
“No… no, please, Mr. Rossi! Why are you doing this?!” Finch’s voice cracked into a desperate, humiliating whine. The swagger, the cruelty, the arrogant authority he had wielded over helpless tenants vanished into thin air. He was a terrified insect caught beneath a descending boot. “What did I do to you?! Is it the girl? The Cole girl? I didn’t know she was yours! I swear to God I didn’t know she was connected to you!”
“She is not mine,” Zo growled, his eyes flashing with a sudden, terrifying fury that made Finch drop his chin to his chest in pure terror. “She is an honest, hardworking woman whom you have terrorized, exploited, and starved while you lined your pockets with slum profits. And that makes you an offense to this city.”
Zo reached inside his overcoat.
Finch flinched violently, raising his hands to protect his face as if expecting a gun.
Instead, Zo pulled out a sleek, black fountain pen with a gold nib and a crisp, folded legal document.
“This is an unconditional assignment of deed in lieu of debt settlement for 1422 North Pulaski Road,” Zo said, opening the paper against his palm. “My attorney drafted it during the drive over. You sign this building over to the Rossi Foundation tonight. In exchange, I grant you a forty-eight-hour extension on your Logan Square balloon note to attempt to find an outside lender. If you don’t sign, I call the city building commissioner and the Cook County prosecutor right now, and you spend tomorrow night in Cook County Jail for criminal housing management while my bank executes the foreclosure.”
Finch took the document with hands that trembled so violently the paper rattled like dry autumn leaves. He looked at the lines, but his eyes couldn’t focus. He looked at Carl, but his enforcer was staring at the floorboards, utterly silent, terrified to even breathe too loudly in Zo’s presence.
“Sign it,” Zo commanded.
Finch didn’t ask for a lawyer. He didn’t ask for time to read the terms. He leaned against the damp, peeling wall of the hallway, uncapped the gold pen with slick, sweaty fingers, and scribbled his name across the bottom line.
Zo snatched the document back before the ink had even dried. He inspected the signature with cold satisfaction, folded the paper neatly, and slipped it into his breast pocket alongside the pen.
“Now,” Zo said, stepping back toward the doorway of Unit 3B. “Get out of my building.”
Finch looked up, his breath coming in shallow wheezes. “Your… your building?”
“I am the owner of record as of this signature,” Zo said, his voice dropping into that chilling, unyielding tone that brooked no debate. “If you or this animal ever set foot on this property again, I will have Frank break both your kneecaps and let the state attorney sort out the paperwork. Run along, Finch.”
Finch didn’t need to be told a second time. He turned and practically scrambled down the stairs, tripping over his own boots, with Carl trailing closely behind, leaving the rusted crowbar abandoned against the radiator in his haste to escape. The heavy ground-floor door slammed shut, sending a shudder all the way up the stairwell, followed by the muffled screech of tires on the icy asphalt outside as their beat-up sedan sped away into the night.
Zo stood in the silence of the hallway for a long moment, taking a deep, slow breath to clear the foul odor of cheap tobacco from his lungs. He adjusted his cuffs once more, making sure not a single hair or fabric thread was out of place, before turning back into the apartment.
The living room was quiet, save for the hum of the small ceramic heater.
The bedroom door opened an inch, then swung wide.
Tessa stood in the threshold, her hands clasped tightly against her chest, her face completely pale. Behind her, Toby and Leo were peering out, their wide eyes moving from the empty hallway to the tall man standing calmly in their living room.
Tessa had heard every word.
