An elderly black man nearby overheard Sheriff's words and snapped, "You thieving, corner-cutting snake. Even God wouldn't waste mercy on your kind. Only a fool would trust you with anything!"
The old man spoke rapidly, clearly accustomed to the establishment's rules—replacing every expletive with obscure slang. Yet his verbal flow remained flawless, proving that rap talent ran deep in his blood.
Foggy excitedly high-fived him. "Nice one, Old Kent!"
Sheriff glared, shaking his fist, but didn't dare escalate. Alvin had zero tolerance for violence here. Past troublemakers had learned that lesson the hard way.
The wooden door creaked open. A stunning Eastern European woman strode in, scanning the room before zeroing in on Sheriff at the counter. She tilted her chin—a silent command to vacate the seat.
To everyone's surprise, Sheriff immediately complied with an awkward chuckle. "Hey, Darya." Grabbing his glass, he shuffled off to a newly vacated table.
The woman—Darya—settled onto the stool with practiced grace. Nodding at nearby patrons, she produced a cigarette, lit it, and rested her chin on one hand while studying Alvin's busy form through the smoke.
Jessica slammed a lemonade before her. "No smoking, Miss Darya."
Darya exhaled lazily. "Oh, lucky girl. Let me finish this one, hmm?" Her glittering gaze swept the counter. "I'm sure none of these gentlemen mind." Every man present—except Matt—nodded on cue.
Jessica shot them a withering look before delivering the first finished steak to Matt, carefully placing the cutlery in his hands.
With ten burners blazing, the remaining steaks were soon served. Alvin wiped his hands and poured himself a beer.
"Alvin," Darya purred, stubbing out her cigarette. "You should train Thor and Doom better. They blocked a gorgeous woman earlier—no wonder only smelly men frequent this place." She ignored the indignant glares from said "smelly men."
Alvin ignored her remark, calling instead to Nick, who was debating Batman versus Captain America with Old Stan. "Nick Castle! 8:30 now. I'm checking your homework at 10. Slack off, and you'll learn how I deal with lazy kids."
Nick groaned dramatically, then wheeled himself behind the counter. At the small door near the stove, he stood on one leg and hopped upstairs with impressive speed.
The diners roared with laughter. Foggy yelled after him, "Move faster, Nick! Nobody wants to see you sweeping streets in that chair!"
Nick stuck out his tongue before vanishing upstairs.
Once the door clicked shut, Darya extracted ten bundles of $20 bills from her purse and slid them toward Alvin. Her eyes held a mix of hope and vulnerability.
Alvin counted 20,000,thenpushedhalfback."Iknowyou′vegotnewEasternEuropeangirls.Sendtheminorstoschool—20,000,thenpushedhalfback."Iknowyou′vegotnewEasternEuropeangirls.Sendtheminorstoschool—100 monthly fee. Help the others save up if they want out."
Darya shook her head. "That breaks the rules. If I pay only $100, other gangs will target us. We're doing fine—two girls left for LA last week." She pushed the full sum forward. "Please take it. I know you hate our... business, but I beg you. I can't go back under gang control." Her pleading expression tugged at heartstrings.
Old Kent chimed in, "Take the money, Alvin. You protect them, but refusing payment breaks Hell's Kitchen's rules. The gangs will turn on them—not you."
Alvin hesitated, then called Sheriff over. "Take this. Two food trucks in fifteen days. Cut corners again, and Thor visits you."
Sheriff hunched his shoulders. "$20K barely covers one truck! Be fair, Alvin!"
Alvin handed him a beer. "Consider this your greed tax. No next time, understand?"
His calm tone terrified Sheriff more than any shout. "Y-yes! No problems, I swear!"
"Old Kent," Alvin continued, "who needs work in the neighborhood?"
The old man pondered. "Lilith struggles with three kids. Archy's family of six is jobless."
"Tell them to inspect Sheriff's trucks. Custom requests go through him." Alvin shooed the money-clutching Sheriff away.
To a hulking black man devouring steak by the door, Alvin said, "JJ, escort Sheriff home. It's not safe alone."
JJ—a ex-Marine turned restaurant security—swallowed his last bite and chugged his lemonade. "On it, Boss."
As he opened the door, an even more breathtaking woman entered—followed by two officers. Recognizing the cops, JJ simply ushered Sheriff out without a second glance.