Chapter 2 - THE DEBT WAS NEVER ABOUT MONEY
Julian hit the floor with Maya beneath him before the second gunshot came through the bakery window.
Glass exploded over the tile.
Customers screamed.
Someone knocked over a metal table.
Julian pulled a pistol from beneath his coat.
Maya stared at it.
She had known what Julian was.
Knowing was different from seeing.
“Stay down.”
Another shot struck the pastry case.
The glass front collapsed.
Maya covered her head.
Julian fired twice toward the street.
The sound inside the bakery was deafening.
Maya’s ears rang.
The gray sedan accelerated.
Julian rose halfway.
“Croft!”
Maya grabbed his coat.
“Don’t.”
He looked down.
Something in her expression stopped him.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for him.
Julian remained beside her.
Seconds later, brakes screamed outside.
Derek’s SUV jumped the curb.
Three of Julian’s security men poured out.
The bakery manager shouted that he was calling police.
Julian stood.
“You should.”
The manager looked at the pistol in Julian’s hand.
Julian lowered it.
“We were never here.”
The manager’s face paled.
Maya pushed herself up.
“You can’t do that.”
Julian turned toward her.
“Do what?”
“Make this disappear.”
“Yes, I can.”
“That’s insane.”
“That’s Chicago.”
“Julian.”
He crouched in front of her.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He touched the side of her face.
Maya flinched.
His hand stopped.
A thin line of blood ran down her cheek.
“Glass.”
“I’m fine.”
His fingers began shaking again.
Maya noticed.
Julian pulled his hand away before she could say anything.
Derek entered.
“We need to go.”
Julian nodded.
Maya stood.
“My shift—”
Julian looked at her.
Maya stopped.
Even she understood that argument had expired.
Derek removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
They left through the back entrance.
In the SUV, Julian sat opposite Maya.
Neither spoke.
Maya stared at the floor.
Derek sat beside the driver and made phone calls in a language Maya did not understand.
Julian finally spoke.
“How much do you owe?”
Maya’s eyes closed.
“Seventy-eight thousand.”
Julian thought he had misheard.
“What?”
“Seventy-eight thousand, four hundred and twelve dollars as of yesterday.”
His face went hard.
“What did you borrow?”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“When?”
“Eighteen months ago.”
“For your mother.”
Maya looked up sharply.
“How do you know that?”
“You mentioned she was sick once.”
“She needed surgery.”
“What kind?”
“Julian.”
“I am trying to understand.”
“She had no insurance.”
His expression changed.
Maya looked out the window.
“She had a tumor.”
Julian said nothing.
“They said the waiting list for charity coverage could take months.”
Her voice became quieter.
“She didn’t have months.”
“So you borrowed the money.”
“Yes.”
“From Briarwood.”
“Yes.”
“How did you find them?”
“An advertisement.”
Derek turned halfway around.
“Where?”
“Online.”
“What did it promise?”
“Emergency medical loans regardless of credit.”
Derek muttered something under his breath.
Julian’s eyes remained on Maya.
“What were the terms?”
“I thought twenty-eight percent.”
“You thought?”
“The contract was complicated.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know.”
Julian leaned back slowly.
“Maya.”
“I know how stupid that sounds.”
“Stop.”
She blinked.
“Do not call yourself stupid because professional predators designed paperwork to confuse desperate people.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Maya looked down at her hands.
“My mother got better.”
That was the only part she did not regret.
Julian understood.
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“She thinks the loan was from a hospital assistance program.”
“And the late-night bakery?”
“She thinks I’m saving.”
Derek glanced at Julian.
Julian understood that look too.
Everyone in Maya’s life believed she was fine.
Because Maya had made sure they did.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Maya’s mouth tightened.
Julian waited.
Finally she said it.
“Because I knew what you would do.”
“And what would I do?”
“Exactly what you’re planning right now.”
He did not deny it.
“You would call somebody.”
Silence.
“You would threaten somebody.”
More silence.
“You would make seventy-eight thousand dollars disappear before breakfast.”
Julian looked almost offended.
“Before breakfast?”
Derek coughed to hide a laugh.
Maya glared at both of them.
“This isn’t funny.”
“No.”
Julian’s amusement vanished immediately.
“It isn’t.”
Maya stared at him.
“I need to fix this myself.”
“You cannot fix a rigged loan yourself.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Vincent Vale.”
The atmosphere in the vehicle changed.
Maya felt it.
“What did he do to you?”
Julian’s eyes went toward the window.
“Not to me.”
Derek became silent.
Maya understood she had touched something dangerous.
Julian continued anyway.
“Fifteen years ago, my father was trying to leave organized crime.”
Maya stared at him.
“He wanted out?”
“He wanted me out.”
Julian’s smile held no warmth.
“My father had finally realized that building a kingdom usually means building a graveyard around it.”
“What happened?”
“Vale found out.”
The SUV entered the underground garage beneath Julian’s building.
Julian looked back at Maya.
“Three weeks later, my parents were dead.”
Maya forgot to breathe.
“Julian.”
“He ordered the car bombing.”
Derek looked away.
Maya’s voice softened.
“How old were you?”
“Twenty.”
Something inside her cracked.
She suddenly understood parts of Julian that had never made sense.
Why he checked exits.
Why he distrusted silence.
Why he never sat with his back to a door.
Why a man who supposedly feared nothing had stood in a dark penthouse for four hours because one woman was late.
The SUV stopped.
Julian did not move.
“Vale disappeared for years.”
“And now?”
“Now he owns financial companies, construction firms, nightclubs, private security contractors, half a dozen legitimate businesses, and enough dirty ones to make the legitimate ones useful.”
Maya swallowed.
“So my loan—”
“May not have been random.”
Her face went blank.
“What?”
Derek turned.
“We’re looking at when Briarwood first targeted your information.”
“Targeted?”
Maya stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Julian answered.
“It means we need to know whether you found them.”
His eyes hardened.
“Or whether they found you.”
Maya shook her head.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Julian stepped from the vehicle.
Derek escorted Maya upstairs while Julian remained behind making calls.
Twenty minutes later, Maya was sitting at the kitchen counter with a small bandage on her cheek.
Julian entered.
He put a folder on the counter.
“What is that?”
“Your original loan agreement.”
She stared at him.
“How did you get that?”
“I asked.”
Derek gave her a look from across the room that clearly translated Julian’s definition of asked.
Maya opened the folder.
Her signature appeared on every page.
She felt sick.
Julian pointed.
“This clause changes your interest rate after the first missed payment.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He flipped another page.
“This one authorizes secondary collection fees.”
Maya’s face tightened.
“And this one allows transfer of ownership.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Briarwood sold your debt.”
“To who?”
Julian turned the page.
A company name had been highlighted.
Saint Aurelius Holdings.
Derek spoke quietly.
“That company is Vale.”
Maya pushed away from the counter.
“I don’t understand.”
Julian placed both hands on the marble.
“You made every payment for fourteen months.”
“Yes.”
“You were never late.”
“No.”
“Then three months ago the payment portal began rejecting your transfers.”
Maya stared at him.
“How do you know that?”
“I checked your bank records.”
Her face changed.
“You did what?”
“Only the transfers connected to Briarwood.”
“That is still my bank account.”
“I know.”
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
She seemed more shocked by the fact that he admitted it.
Julian continued.
“Every rejected payment created a penalty.”
“Yes.”
“Then they changed the mailing address for appeals.”
“Yes.”
“Then they claimed your appeal was late.”
Maya slowly sat down.
“Yes.”
Julian’s voice became colder.
“They manufactured the default.”
Derek slid a photograph across the counter.
It showed a man in his late fifties leaving a restaurant.
Gray hair.
Expensive coat.
Eyes like stone.
“Vincent Vale.”
Maya looked at him.
“I’ve never seen him.”
“We believe you.”
She looked at Julian.
“Then why would he care about my debt?”
Julian did not answer.
Maya understood.
“No.”
“Maya.”
“No.”
She stood.
“You think he did this because of you.”
“We don’t know.”
“He didn’t know me eighteen months ago.”
Derek spoke.
“You started working for Julian nineteen months ago.”
Maya froze.
The room went silent.
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Julian’s expression was unbearable.
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head.
“This is because I work here.”
“We don’t know that.”
“You just said—”
“I said we don’t know.”
“But you think it.”
Julian could not lie to her.
“Yes.”
Maya backed away.
Everything she had endured suddenly rearranged itself.
The impossible interest.
The rejected payments.
The threatening calls.
The men who once appeared outside her mother’s apartment and claimed they had the wrong address.
The feeling that someone was tightening a rope she could never quite see.
“This whole time.”
Her voice trembled.
“This whole time they weren’t trying to collect money.”
Julian’s face darkened.
“No.”
“What were they trying to collect?”
Julian looked at her.
Before he could answer, Derek’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
Every trace of color left his face.
“Julian.”
Julian turned.
Derek held out the phone.
It was a photograph.
Maya’s mother stood outside a grocery store.
The photograph had been taken less than ten minutes earlier.
A message appeared beneath it.
TELL CROFT THE GIRL OWES MORE THAN MONEY.
Maya made a sound Julian would never forget.
Then another message arrived.
MIDNIGHT TOMORROW.
May you like
BRING MAYA.
OR HER MOTHER PAYS THE BALANCE.
