Scammed at My Sister’s Restaurant

Zacharias Beaten Up

We were in the dark room. I was their prisoner. The manager said nothing. The first thing he did was slam his foot into my belly. He wore leather shoes. The agony made me grunt as my stomach churned.

"That's for spending my girlfriend's money! That's for butting into her business!"

Harold's roars kept coming. His voice was getting hoarse and twisted. Jealousy and fury oozed from his tone.

He looked at me like I was inferior to him, and he told his bodyguards. "Mess him up. Teach him a lesson!"

The bodyguards were his trusted confidants. They did not hesitate to carry out his orders. And then a rain of fists crashed into my body.

I clenched my teeth, swallowing the pain that was making my flesh scream. Even so, I could feel my bones threatening to be crushed into smithereens. My organs were going to move around too.

Harold did not stop taunting me. "You are nothing but a loser who leeches off his sister!"

"I told you, I'm her brother! Ask her! Call her! I'll talk to her!"

I tried my best to explain, but Harold did not listen to me. He waited until the world around me was starting to spin, and he raised his hand. The bodyguards stopped.

He slammed the tip of his leather shoe into my shoulder. Smugly, he looked at me. "Pay the bill and give me another 75 grand. This is what you get for meddling with her business and spending her money! I don't mind shedding some blood. Selina will handle it for me."

I was curling up like a pillbug. The pain was killing me. Weakly, I explained, "That's my own money. Ask her yourself."

The look on his face changed. He kicked me again, and the bodyguards resumed their assault.

I knew that the man was stubborn enough not to listen to anything I had to say. If this kept up, I might really die.

I felt a jet of blood flying out of my mouth. With the last of my strength, I rummaged across the ground, and my hand found itself holding a phone a moment later.

"Stop. I… I'll pay."

Harold was happy with my submission. He told the bodyguards to stop. Then he crouched and patted my swollen cheek. "You should've done that sooner. All this pain, for nothing. 150 grand, and not a cent less."

I was lying on the ground, the chill of the concrete seeping into me. As I tried to take in big gulps of air, my lungs burned and shouted in protest.

Instead of dignifying his insult with a response, I called my best friend, Michael Terrason.

The call went through immediately. "Mike, I need you to get 300 grand and come over to my sister's restaurant right now!"

The call stunned Michael, then realization hit him. Something must've happened to me. "What's wrong, Zacharias? You sound…"

"No questions. Just do it!" I interrupted and hung up.

The increased offer did not escape Harold's ears. His eyes lit up, and greed gleamed within.

Perhaps he thought the beating scared me, and I was making a good offer in exchange for my life. Now he was positively gloating at me.

"At least you know your place."