Olli ran up the stairs of LCL four steps at a time; the shylock, Slatko, was waiting for him upstairs, and he was likely to be upset. It was a miracle to have him go upstairs before he could raise a hell at LCL, with his arrogant attitude and all; Sascha and Andi had gone off road this time, they had put Emilio in trouble for money and then disappearing into nothingness… and who had to fix everything, then? Olli, clearly! But it was the last time, then stop! Sascha had a heart of gold maybe but he was too far off from legality and Andi… Andi was too stupid, you couldn’t count on him at all. You only needed to see how NL could have been closed down while he was in Africa; Olli was on the verge of a heart attack when Charlie had told him how they had practically destroyed the venue and how she had to intervene to settle everything pushing as far as to threatening to get her money back. Cheating on Bella with Alexa, now that she was pregnant! No, better let them go; Bella could count on Olli for her own support and for the kid’s but he couldn’t look after another child such as Andi.
In the meantime he had gotten to the door; he opened it slowly prepared for the fight. The shylock was smoking a couple meters off; on his arriving he turned: “So? It took you long! Where’s my money?”
Olli moved on the steps, taking time: “Listen, you don’t think I can give you 50000€ in cash, right? Let’s try to find an accommodation of sorts.”
Slatko threw away his cigarette and got close to Olli with clenched fists: “Accommodation my ass! That little boy got my money and he knew exactly what he was doing! I don’t give a fuck if he ran to his mother or his little boyfriend to whine, I want my money and I want it now, interest included!”
Olli tried to face him: “First, I’m not his boyfriend nor his mother. Second, do what you want; punch him in the face, set his van on fire and then what? Smoke only. Or we can try to find an arrangement and in the end you’ll get your fucking money.”
The slava took him by the shirt, pushed him and growled with his face just a few inches from Olli’s: “I do whatever I fucking want. I decide if I want to bludgeon someone’s face and anyway I’ll get my money back, do you get it? Or I could even do something worse than smashing his nose, to him and those two morons who sent him to me...” thus saying he pressed Olli towards the railing on the roof: “while I could have a special treatment for you, maybe I could get to hit the street from me, you might raise more.”
Olli felt his long-repressed rage come up from the last months; he pushed the usurer away and shouted at him: “You piece of shit, don’t you try to scare me! I faced the worst in my life and someone like you just makes me laugh! You want everything and you want it now, right? Well, you’ll have a big nothing! Get off me and don’t show your face ever again or I’ll have the police after you in less than no time!” A wicked grin: “Having a ‘kommissar’ in the family simplifies things a lot, you know!”
Slatko was at a loss for a moment, then he blushed and jumped at the other, screaming: “You fucking faggot, no one can talk to me like that, you’re a dead man!”
Punches flew in the air, then pushes, kicks; then a violent head push from the usurer sent Olli heavily on the railing, it couldn’t stand the weight and fell down. The boy fell down, on the asphalt; a woman started crying while she slava ran down the stairs.