John Wick - Chapter 84: I’m Giving You a Choice (Patreon)

“You want me to kill Gianna D’Antonio?” John finally spoke.

First came surprise. Then anger.

“Why?”

Santino’s expression remained blank, his eyes lowered. “Before my father died, he left the seat to her in his will. She now represents the Camorra.”

“And I can’t help wondering what I could accomplish if I took her place.”

There was anticipation in Santino’s eyes as he imagined that future, along with an unmistakable hunger for power.

John asked again, “You really want me to kill your own sister?”

Santino looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, John. I can’t do it myself. She’s family. I still love her.”

Nate watched from the side with a broad smile on his face and muttered under his breath, “What a fucking bastard...”

Santino frowned. “What was that?”

Nate immediately looked up. “Nothing. I was just saying you’re very decisive, Mr. Santino.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, Mr. Lin.” Santino looked thoroughly pleased with himself.

John thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“No. She’s my friend. I can’t do it.”

“That’s exactly why I need you, Mr. Wick. I need the Baba Yaga to do this for me.”

Santino picked up the Marker and opened it.

“See this, John? That’s your blood.”

“So I’m giving you an order, not making a request. Do this, and we’re even.”

John frowned deeply and fell silent, clearly torn.

Across from him, Santino crossed one leg over the other and leisurely took another sip of coffee. He seemed to enjoy watching John struggle with the decision.

John remained silent, and the atmosphere in the room gradually turned cold.

By then, Santino had already finished his coffee.

“I have to say, Mr. Lin, your coffee really is excellent.”

“You like it? Then have some more.”

Nate poured him another cup.

“Mr. Lin, we can discuss your price as well. If you agree to do this, what would you want in return?”

Santino smiled at the young man over his coffee. For some reason, he found Nate remarkably easy to be around, and even his tone had softened.

Of course he did. Nate had been feeding his ego nonstop. That was something Nate had always been very good at.

“Hold on. There’s no rush with our business. We’ve got plenty of time to talk.”

Nate answered casually, but his eyes were fixed on something behind Santino.

Santino noticed.

He set down his coffee.

“Mr. Lin, what are you looking at?”

“The clock behind you, sir.”

“Is it getting late?”

“No. It’s not late. It’s just almost time.”

“What do you mea...”

Before Santino could finish, Nate snapped his fingers.

The sharp sound immediately drew the attention of the other two men.

A moment later, a violent pain tore through Santino’s abdomen.

He didn’t even have time to uncross his legs. He doubled over in the chair at an awkward angle, clutching his stomach.

“Oh. Pretty flexible, Mr. Santino.”

John’s eyes widened, but he reacted immediately and shoved a finger toward the back of his throat.

Nate turned and gave him a reassuring look.

Santino forced his head up.

Cold sweat covered his forehead. His lips had gone pale, and his face was already twisted in agony.

“You... you poisoned me!”

Nate stood and looked down at him.

“Yes, Mr. Santino. And to be perfectly frank, I’ve been putting up with you for far too long.”

Nate drew his arm back and slapped him across the face with everything he had.

The blow nearly knocked Santino out of the chair.

Nate let out a long breath.

That felt good.

Playing nice with this spoiled Italian heir had seriously tested both his patience and his self-control. He had nearly lost it several times already.

Still awkwardly tangled in his crossed-leg position, Santino struggled to straighten himself.

The pain had gotten so bad that his body was starting to twitch. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he could barely form the words.

“What... what did you give me?”

His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Something I mixed myself, Mr. Santino. Your intelligence network really is terrible. You didn’t even know I use poison?”

“Then why... why are you two... fine?”

“There’s a saying. The dose makes the poison.”

Nate smiled.

“You drank too much, Mr. Santino. Being greedy isn’t a good habit. At a low enough dose, this stuff will give you diarrhea at worst. Go past that threshold, though, and it can kill you.”

“It’ll rot your guts from the inside out. You’ve got ten minutes at most, Mr. Santino. Once those ten minutes are up, not even God could save you.”

“And the antidote...”

Nate pulled out a small pill.

“...is right here.”

“Give... give it to me!”

Santino tried to throw himself at Nate, but the pain had left his body cramped and sluggish. His movement was barely faster than a turtle’s, and he ended up crashing face-first onto the floor.

“No, no, Mr. Santino.”

Nate tossed the pill to John.

John caught it cleanly.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Santino. I’m giving you a choice.”

Nate looked down at him.

“Do you want to use that Marker to force John to take your sister’s life?”

“Or do you want to use that Marker to make John save yours?”

“The antidote is in his hand right now, Mr. Santino.”

Nate crouched beside Santino, who was sprawled on the floor.

From Santino’s perspective, the smile on the young man’s face looked no different from a demon’s.

“Seven minutes left, sir. Tick... tick...”

Nate tapped the bare wrist of his left hand as though a watch were sitting there.

“I choose... I choose... my life.”

Cold sweat ran from Santino’s hair onto the carpet.

He squeezed his eyes shut in agony.

“John... save... save me.”

Santino lay on the floor, his body twitching.

The pain in his abdomen was getting worse by the second, and his lips were already beginning to turn blue.

His survival instinct finally overwhelmed everything else.

He struggled upright, trembling violently, opened the Marker, and pricked his finger. Afraid there wouldn’t be enough blood, he stabbed it several more times before pressing his bloody fingerprint onto the other side without the slightest hesitation.

“The antidote! Give me the antidote!” Santino screamed.

John looked at Nate.

Nate shook his head.

“Not yet, Santino. There’s still one more step.”

Nate slowly walked into the kitchen, picked up a large ledger, then strolled back just as slowly.

John immediately understood.

There was indeed one more formality.

The look he gave Nate was now filled with appreciation.

To Santino, however, those few steps seemed impossibly long, especially with Nate moving at the pace of someone out for an evening stroll.

The pain in his abdomen intensified again.

“Just a moment. Just a moment. I need to find the page for your Marker. Once your fingerprint is in the ledger, you’ll get the antidote.”

Nate held the thick book and began turning the pages one by one.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

At last, he had a chance to make this bastard suffer a little. There was no way he was going to waste it.

“You’ve still got more than four minutes. No rush... no rush at all.”

Nate didn’t even look up as he continued flipping through the pages, speaking in the soothing tone one might use with a small child.

If looks could kill, the fury in Santino’s eyes would have murdered Nate dozens of times over.

Another full minute passed.

“Oh! Found it.”

Nate pushed the ledger in front of Santino.

“Now then, please leave your fingerprint, Mr. Santino.”