CHAPTER THREE – THE DEBT.
All through that night, I stayed widely awake, rest was not forthcoming as hours kept ticking.
Blinking my eyes made no difference, because Damien Cross stayed there, motionless beside the oak tree, staring with flat gray eyes.
That message kept playing. "Be on time." As if I had no choice,as though I belonged to him without even saying yes.
At about six o'clock, I had a cup of coffee that further discouraged sleep. While pouring the coffee, the dark drops spread over the edge as the cup trembled.
With the cloth in hand, I hardly started cleaning, when a knock broke the quiet at the front door.
It was still dark outside when they showed up.nothing worth seeing could happen that soon.
There he was again, Damien Cross lawyer, Mr Chen, planted in my entryway like he owned the place. His briefcase gleamed, black and stiff, tucked under one arm.
Not a single word at first, just him alone taking up space where peace used to be.
"Miss Bennett. I apologize for the early hour, but Mr. Cross requested I deliver these documents personally before your meeting tonight."
"How did you get my address?" I flared.
"Mr. Cross is very thorough." He held out a thick manila envelope. "Everything you need to know about your father's debt is here. I suggest you review it carefully before seven o'clock."
The envelope was heavily packed with papers that deadened my fingers.
Mr. Chen realized some mistakes in the documents as he adjusted his pair of reading glasses.
" My father didn't have fifty million dollars and he couldn't have borrowed that much." I can still recall.
"Your father was a desperate man, Miss Bennett, however, most men of his kind are always poor.
"The documentation is all legal and binding, because your father signed a personal guarantee, when the business venture failed, the debt, therefore, became his responsibility."
"What business venture?"
"A real estate development project in Brooklyn, which your father convinced Mr. Cross to invest forty million dollars, but the project collapsed within six months.
Between the initial investment and accrued interest, the total debt is now fifty million."
My head spun. "My father would never - "
"Your father was three months from bankruptcy when he approached Mr. Cross." Mr. Chen's voice was matter-of-fact, like we were discussing the weather instead of my life falling apart.
"Mr. Cross gave him a chance to save his company, but your father failed.
These are simply the consequences."
I felt my throat tightened, still my feet stayed rooted to the ground, with my fingers gripping the cursed letter.
"One more thing." Mr. Chen pulled out another document. "This is an inventory of your father's assets. His apartment in Queens, his car, his bank accounts and the college fund he established for your brother."
"You can't touch Tori's college fund. That money is his."
"Actually, Miss Bennett, I can. Your father established that fund as part of his estate. It's now subject to debt collection."
Mr. Chen's expression didn't change. "Unless, of course, you reach an agreement with Mr. Cross."
"What kind of agreement?"
"That's between you and Mr. Cross. Seven o'clock. Don't keep him waiting." He turned to leave, then paused.
"Oh, Miss Bennett, Mr. Cross doesn't respond well to insolence, but maintains zero the tolerance to contemptuous attitude. I'd advise you to cooperate."
The moment the door shut, I stayed frozen, holding the envelope, feeling everything fall apart.
Right away, I got Tori on the phone.
"Do you know anything about Dad's business deal with someone named Damien Cross?" I asked the moment he answered.
"Who?" Tori's voice was unsteady.
"Soph, it's six-thirty in the morning."
"Dad borrowed forty million dollars from a tech billionaire. Did he ever mention this to you?"
Silence rented the air. "Forty million? That's insane."
Something else came up, a strange development.
Out of the envelope slipped a stack of pages, fanned out over the wooden table. Papers everywhere - deeds, agreements, bank records. Each one signed by my dad down below. According to his attorney, he'd pledged your education money as security
"What? No, he wouldn't - "
Tori, I'm looking at the paperwork right now. "If we don't pay back this debt, they're taking everything. Including your education money."
His breath came fast through the phone. What's the total?
"Fifty million dollars."
"Jesus Christ." A long pause. "Sophia, we don't have fifty million dollars. We don't even have fifty thousand dollars."
"I know."
"So what do we do?"
Staring down at the papers scattered on wood grain. Each sheet breathed out his fear - my father's hopes crumbling like old paper, poor decisions stacking up into something I now hold.
"I have a meeting with Damien Cross tonight. Maybe I can negotiate something. A payment plan, or - "
"You can't negotiate with fifty million dollars!" Tori's voice cracked. "We're screwed. We're completely screwed."
"I'll figure something out."
"How? How are you going to figure this out?"
There was no reply inside me. That moment stayed quiet.
Once the call ended, pages spread across the wood of the kitchen table. Each paper held words too tight to argue with. His signature locked down every loss - business, money, what should've been ours later. One failed bet on buildings changed it all.
What made you choose that path, Father? Tell me the reason behind your choice.
A page stood out to me. Hidden near the bottom, a line said that if the borrower dies, relatives take on what is owed - collections can start within a month.
A month stood between me and Damien Cross claiming what my father built. Thirty days until he could take it all.
The screen lit up again. A message popped in from someone I did not recognize.
Here's what the papers say about the money owed. Discussion on how to fix it happens tonight. You might actually like what comes next. - DC
A way out? Could anything really fix a sum so huge?
The hands on the clock crawled forward. Ten minutes passed since my last glance - twelve hours left till Damien Cross would be standing there.
A day passed before I figured out why someone worth millions was interested in her - she owned nothing, feared less.
Still, deep down, I sensed his offer - no matter what it was - would demand far more than fifty million bucks.
Everything I have would be spent on it.
End of Chapter Three.