No one knows who The Leverager is, or if they do, they keep his identity a closely guarded secret. You ask to him to do a favor, any favor and he’ll do it, for a price in return of course.
He’s exclusive; he meets the needs of his clients one at a time. They say his price is different according to each client, sometimes it’s money, sometimes it’s trade secrets and sometimes it’s a favor that you’ll have to repay in the future.
The price is always extortionate—when you make a deal with the devil it always is. And I was willing to pay.
“Wait!” I called just as he was about to walk out the door. “Yes?” He inquired over his shoulder. “What are you getting out of this? I mean, what do I owe you?” I asked, remembering he’d never revealed just why he was doing this. He chuckled disarmingly. “It’s too late for that, Monsoon. You showed me your cards without asking me to show mine. I take what I want, when I want it. I don’t reveal my secrets for nothing in return, and no matter what I want from you, you won’t be able to stop me from taking it even if I was to tell you what it is. So, really, there’s no point in you knowing. Just be ready to deliver, when I demand,” he declared with smoldering eyes.
I’ve lived thousands of moments and I’ve been to thousands of places crafted by the soul crushing and soul mending words of thousands of authors. (Metaphorically raises glass of gin and tonic), here’s to hoping I’ve created one thousandth of a moment of life for you …