Chapter 41: Chapter 41: The $150,000 debt
Ethan finished the last slice of the ’Capitán Special.’ It was greasy, delicious, and felt like home. The conversation had flowed easily for nearly an hour, a comforting wave of normal life washing over him.
Alfred clapped him on the shoulder again, settling down to eat his own slice of pizza. "Tell us about your life now, son. We’ve missed all your stories!"
"Honestly, it’s been a whirlwind," Ethan confessed, taking a large bite of the cheesy pizza. "I didn’t get accepted into the university program I wanted, but I landed a really good job. Things are going well, really well. It’s a great job, but I have to keep the details quiet."
Martha raised an eyebrow, a playful look on her face. "Oh, a secret job, huh? Are you a spy, Ethan? Or maybe a hitman?"
Ethan laughed, a genuine, easy sound. "Hahaha, no, not quite! But it’s pretty good, and it’s better not knowing the specifics, trust me," he said, giving them a mysterious wink.
Lilly smiled sweetly. "Well, I knew you’d make something of yourself! You look... different. You look really good." She ran a curious hand over his new, sharper jawline. "Is Lilly still single? Asking for a friend... who is me."
Lilly’s face flushed bright red, and she playfully punched his arm. "Hey! Yes, I’m single! I’ve been too busy helping out here."
Alfred nudged Ethan with a sharp elbow, winking broadly. "She’s single, Ethan. And she’s a good girl. You should get her number, you dummy!" Martha nudged Alfred back, but smiled encouragingly at Ethan. "Go on, boy. You two always had a sparkle."
Ethan laughed, pulling out his phone. "Alright, alright. Give me your number, Lil. I’m going to call you later this week, and we’re going out. No pizza, just us. Deal?"
Lilly’s smile was blinding. "Deal!"
Just as the sweet, easy conversation resumed, the bell over the entrance chimed, and two figures entered, bringing the lively atmosphere to an instant, icy halt. They were two men in cheap, ill-fitting suits, built like brick shithouses, with expressions that promised violence. They bypassed the counter entirely and walked straight to Alfred.
"Alfredo," the taller one growled, his voice scraping like dry cement. "The time for eating pizza is over. We told you: the payment was due yesterday."
Alfred’s face went pale. He immediately stepped in front of Lilly and Martha. "We talked about this, Marcos. I need a week. Just one more week. Business has been slow since the fire, and—"
"We don’t do extensions, fat man," the second thug spat, slamming a large, gloved hand onto the table, making the glasses jump. "$150,000. Pay it, sell us the land, or we start collecting with interest. And we like collecting pretty things." He leered, his eyes sliding right past Alfred to land predatorily on Lilly.
The air in the pizzeria was suddenly suffocating. Ethan felt a cold, murderous rage—far more intense than anything he felt with Victoria—ignite in his chest. Nobody touches what is mine. NOBODY.
[Oh, nice!] The System sounded thrilled. [Looks like the universe heard you wanted to test out those moves, champ! What’s the plan? You gonna let them take the girl?]
Ethan’s eyes, now hard as granite, were fixed on the thug who dared to look at Lilly. He pushed his chair back with a violent scrape, the sound cutting through the silence.
His rage was a hot, terrifying wave, focused entirely on the thug who had eyed Lilly. His body, powered by the Professional Boxer skill, felt light, coiled, and ready to explode.
"Get the hell away from them," Ethan’s voice was low, flat, and entirely unfamiliar.
The two thugs, Marcos and his partner, turned their attention to Ethan, assessing the sudden distraction. Marcos sneered. "And who the hell are you, kid? Her boyfriend? This is grown-up business. Stay in your seat."
Alfred, still pale, grabbed Ethan’s arm. "Ethan, no! Don’t get involved! They’re dangerous! Just sit down, son, please!"
Martha pulled him from the other side. "Listen to your Uncle! We’ll handle this!"
Lilly, her eyes wide with fear, tugged his sleeve. "Ethan, please, don’t!"
Ethan barely noticed them. His eyes were locked on Marcos. "He asked for $150,000," Ethan stated, his hand reaching into his jacket for the wallet loaded with cash. "I’ll pay it."
The thugs exchanged a look, and Marcos actually laughed—a harsh, unpleasant sound. "You? Pay it? Look at you, kid. Go back to your video games."
"I said, I will pay it," Ethan repeated, pulling out his phone and unlocking his banking app, which displayed his balance of over $1,400,000. "Just give me the account number."
Alfred looked horrified. "Ethan! Stop! You can’t! That’s too much money! We can manage this, don’t throw away your savings!"
"Uncle Alfred, you fed me when I had nothing. You housed my father. This is nothing," Ethan said, still not breaking eye contact with the thugs. "Now, give me the account number."
Marcos stopped laughing. His face hardened, and his partner shifted uncomfortably. "Look, kid, we don’t want your money. We want the land. The contract says if the money isn’t paid, the property defaults. This debt is between Alfredo and our boss. Stay out of it." The gangster said it by accident due to anger.
[Hold up!] The System’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension. [Ethan, stop! Did you hear that? What kind of gangster doesn’t want a huge pile of money wired to him right now? Something’s wrong. They don’t want the cash; they want the property, the idiot said it by accident but it was the most obvious thing! ]
He kept his expression cold, playing the part of the reckless rich kid. "I don’t care about your boss’s stupid contract. You want cash, you take cash. Now give me the number, or I’m calling the police right now and reporting you for armed coercion and trespassing. Let’s see how your boss likes the heat."
The thug’s eyes narrowed. They knew Ethan could actually make that call, and the heat would complicate the contract seizure.
"$150,000! Give me the number now, or I swear to God, you’ll be scraping your teeth off the floor with a spoon."
The second thug, seeing the money and sensing the pure, unhinged threat in Ethan’s eyes, quickly spoke up. "Fine! Fine! The account is—"
Alfred was shaking his head wildly. "Ethan, don’t! Please!"
But Ethan was already typing the numbers into his phone. He hit ’Send’ and showed Marcos the confirmation screen. "Done. The $150,000 is transferred. Now, get your cheap suits out of my sight and tell your boss to burn the damn contract. This debt is settled."
Marcos stared at the phone screen, his shock giving way to grudging anger. He hadn’t wanted the money, but he couldn’t deny the transaction. He looked at his partner, then back at Ethan, his expression promising future violence.
"You just made a very powerful enemy, kid. This isn’t over. We’ll be seeing you," Marcos spat, then grabbed his partner and stalked out, slamming the door behind them.