A detective stands over a suitcase of cash and the mobster who owns it—will he pull the trigger or take the money? Write the ending.
The Final Tally
Sacco’s thumb drew the hammer back on his service revolver. The triple click echoed in the close, stale air of the hideout. Alfonse Martin, the sweat beading on his hairline matching the gleam of the banded hundreds in his suitcase, stopped packing. The damp cigar stub fell from his lips, hitting the floorboards without a sound.
“You figure me wrong, fat man,” Sacco said, his voice flat, drained of anything but cold calculation. “What if it is all mine and you end up floating face down in the river?”
A faint tremor shook Alfonse’s fleshy jowls, the only outward sign of fear. His eyes darted from the barrel of the gun to the mountain of cash. He leaned forward slowly, placing both palms flat on the tabletop.
“Tony, think,” Alfonse whispered, the arrogance gone, replaced by a desperate, jagged rasp. “The river is a lonely place. Three million dollars buys a lot of company, a lot of distance. You shoot me, you’re just a cop with a body. You take the deal, you’re a retired king.”
Sacco’s face was an unreadable mask beneath the brim of his fedora. He looked at the cash—a lifetime’s worth of comfort, security, and escape from the grime of the city. Then he looked at Alfonse, the embodiment of everything he had sworn to destroy.
The revolver heavy in his hand was the deciding factor. Sacco took a final, sharp breath, the air tasting of gun oil and old tobacco. He made his choice.
The final scene rests on a razor’s edge. Will Sacco pull the trigger, seal the arrest, or walk away with the money? You decide how the story ends—share your conclusion in the comments below.
