Chapter 3 - The Uninvited Creditor
The sharp vibration of Chloe’s phone cut through the heavy silence of the living room like a knife. Marcus lunged forward to grab the device, but Chloe was faster, snatching it off the glass coffee table and pressing it tight against her chest.
"Give me that," Marcus hissed, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper. "Who was it?"
"Nobody," Chloe lied, though her voice trembled violently and sweat beaded along her hairline.
Maya stopped at the bottom of the grand staircase, turning slowly to observe the sudden shift in atmosphere. Her sharp corporate instincts immediately picked up on the sudden terror radiating from the couple. People who were merely mooching didn't look like they had just seen a ghost over a text message.
"It looks like you have bigger problems than my eviction notice," Maya observed, crossing her arms over her black blazer. "Who owns you, Chloe?"
"Mind your own business, Maya," Chloe snapped, her composure cracking completely. "This has nothing to do with you or your precious corporate empire."
"Everything under this roof is my business," Maya stepped back into the living room, her eyes narrowing as she studied Chloe’s desperate grip on the phone. "And judging by the way the color just drained from Marcus's face, I'd say whatever debt you're hiding is about to crash through my front door."
Right on cue, a heavy, rhythmic pounding echoed against the heavy wooden front door. Bam. Bam. Bam.
Marcus flinched violently at the sound, looking around the bright living room as if searching for a panic room. "Don't open it," he whispered, grabbing Maya’s forearm. "Maya, please, don't open the door."
Maya yanked her arm away with a look of absolute disgust, wiping the spot where he touched her blazer. "Take your hands off me, Marcus. And stop acting like a coward in my house."
She strode past them, her high heels clicking rhythmically against the floor, completely unfazed by the aggressive knocking. She reached the front door, unlatched the deadbolt with a sharp metallic snap, and pulled it wide open.
Standing on the porch was a towering man in a charcoal grey suit, broad-shouldered and wearing dark sunglasses despite the evening hour. Behind him idled a sleek black sedan with tinted windows.
The man didn't look at Maya. He looked straight past her into the brightly lit foyer, his lips curling into a cold, predatory smile as his eyes locked onto Marcus and Chloe.
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"Time's up," the man said, his deep voice carrying easily into the house. "Where's the money?"
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