Mickey had lost count of how many times he'd heard Anton utter those chilling words: "I want him dead." Yet, despite the venom in Anton's tone, Mickey knew it was just a figure of speech, a manifestation of his frustration and anger. Anton would never actually act on those words; he'd vent and rage, but ultimately, he'd do nothing. As long as no one told him what he couldn't or should do, Mickey knew Anton would eventually calm down. "I know you hate Greg," Mickey said, nodding calmly. "But try to see it from Natasha's perspective. Think about how she'd feel." Anton scoffed, rolling his eyes and scowling. "Feelings? Her? Does she even have feelings? She wouldn't fucking treat me like this if she did. You don't know how bad I wanted to clock her in her smartass mouth today! I love her so much and she treats me like shit,” Anton yelled. “Does she really treat you like shit or does she just refuse to lead you on?” “She's supposed to lead me on! That's what she's paid for!” “You don't pay her to give you false hope,” Mickey disagreed. “You pay her to play the role of your woman while she's with you. Which she does.” Anton muttered under his breath, silently acknowledging Mickey's point. "Binky's been avoiding me," he admitted, his tone more subdued. Mickey raised an eyebrow. "Not surprising; Binky's never been a fan." "Yeah, but he's been acting suspiciously. I married Valerie. I gave up Natasha to get his spot in the syndicate. If he tries to double-cross me…"

Mickey nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, I'll look into it." "Can't you reconsider retiring? Once I take Binky's place, we'll be unstoppable."

Mickey shook his head firmly. "Sorry, Boss."

Anton sighed, but let it go, knowing Mickey's dedication would always be to him, and that was all the reassurance he needed.