[236 words]

“I’ll keep this short. Kill him,” and he walked out of the room, his Brioni Vanquish II disappearing behind a quietly closed door.

The rest of the suits in the room looked at each other, utterly bewildered.

“He doesn’t mean kill him.”

“No, he means ruin him.”

“Does he?”

“He says exactly what he means.”

Silence again.

“How does one hire a hit man?”

“Don’t you think he could do that? He wants us to do it.”

“I have a gun.”

“So do I, but they’re registered to us, easily traced. No guns.”

“I have some wicked knives in my kitchen…”

“That might work…”

One of the suits in the room rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. The guy would be heading to his car now. The suit left the room, walked to the parking garage, taking a route through the building that led him past the remodeling. He pickup a piece of rebar.

In the garage he smashed the camera watching over the man’s parking space. Moments later the man came into view. With one mighty heave, he cracked the man’s skull with the rebar and watched him bleed out on the cement floor. The man stopped breathing and the suit took his wallet, phone, tablet, and watch. He wouldn’t take the one ring the man wore.

The suit left pondering how to dispose of the items and the rebar and clean his Armani and fine twill Ledbury.

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