Jericho pov.
"Here."
I pushed the stack of money forward and leaned back on the couch, my gun resting loosely in my hand—loose enough to seem casual, ready enough to end the room if I chose. The leather creaked under me as I shifted, watching Marcus's reaction like I was watching a slow, predictable movie.
He stared between me and the cash, throat bobbing. He hadn't expected me to bring the money so easily. Humans never understood that the simplest part of a deal was paying for what you wanted. The difficult part was surviving if you tried to cheat an Alpha.
"Count it if you want," I said, my voice flat.
I almost added, It'll be the last thing you ever count, but I held it back. No need to rush. He was already too nervous to notice the quiet threat in my tone.
Marcus licked his lips. "Right. Yeah. Let me… let me check."
