Chapter 6 - The Price of Freedom
The gravel crunched softly beneath my boots as I walked toward the center of the yard, stepping past my trembling, weeping brother and my mother, whose face was a portrait of utter humiliation. Vance Miller stood his ground, his arms crossed over his chest, his dark sunglasses reflecting the afternoon sun as he watched me approach.
"I’m listening, Miss Fry," Vance said, a faint, curious smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "What does the multi-million-dollar former owner of Sunset Lavender want with a low-life debtor like your brother?"
"I don't want anything to do with him, Vance," I replied flatly, stopping a few feet away. "Garrett made his bed, and he can lie in it. But I do have a business proposal for you."
Vance raised an eyebrow. "A business proposal? I'm all ears. Botanica Global just wired you twenty-four million dollars. Are you looking to invest?"
"Not in crypto," I said with a dry, humorless smile. "I want to buy my brother's debt."
Garrett stopped sobbing for a fraction of a second, lifting his tear-streaked, dirt-stained face from the ground. "S-Sienna...?" he whispered, a desperate, pathetic spark of hope flickering in his wide eyes. "You're going to pay my debt? You're going to save me?"
"Shut up, Garrett," I snapped, not even bothering to look down at him. My gaze remained locked on Vance. "I want to buy the entire promissory note, lock, stock, and barrel. Principal, interest, penalties, and all associated legal claims. I will wire the exact balance—two million, one hundred and forty thousand dollars—from my corporate account to Apex Capital right now, in full and final settlement."
Vance stared at me for a long, calculating moment. He wasn't a fool; he knew a clean, guaranteed cash exit when he saw one. Chasing deadbeats across state lines and liquidating worthless collateral was messy, risky business. Getting two million, one hundred and forty thousand dollars in cleared, instant wire funds without firing a single shot or getting the police involved was the kind of deal that made a lender's month.
"That's a very generous offer, Miss Fry," Vance said slowly, a wide, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Cash in hand, no hassle, no cleanup. I like it. But transactions like that require a signed assignment of debt agreement. You take over the creditor position. Which means..." Vance paused, his grin widening, "...your brother legally becomes your debtor."
"I understand the terms completely," I replied calmly. "Draw up the assignment paperwork, have your legal team email it to my corporate counsel, and I'll execute the wire transfer before the sun sets."
"Deal," Vance said, holding out a large, calloused hand.
I reached out and shook it firmly, sealing the transaction with the cold, professional precision of a seasoned CEO.
Vance turned to his heavies with a sharp wave of his hand. "Pack it up, boys. We're done here."
The two thugs stepped away from Garrett, leaving him crumpled in the dirt like a discarded rag doll. Vance gave me a polite nod of his head, turned on his heel, and walked back to his SUV. Within moments, both matte-black vehicles roared to life, spun around in a flurry of gravel, and sped down the driveway, disappearing into the autumn dusk.
The yard fell into a profound, suffocating silence.
Garrett remained on his knees for a long moment before slowly pushing himself up, using the side of my rusted Ford pickup for support. He looked at me with a strange mixture of immense relief and profound, humiliating degradation.
"Sienna..." Garrett began, his voice trembling, his eyes watery. "Thank you... oh, God, thank you. You saved my life. I swear to you, I'll pay you back every single cent—"
"Stop talking, Garrett," I interrupted, my voice devoid of any warmth or mercy. "You didn't think I bought your debt out of sisterly love, did you?"
Garrett blinked, his lower lip trembling. "What... what do you mean?"
I turned my gaze from Garrett to my mother, who was standing frozen beside her Mercedes, watching us with wide, terrified eyes.
"As of right now, Garrett Fry, you owe me two million, one hundred and forty thousand dollars," I said, stepping closer to him, my voice ringing with cold authority. "And unlike Apex Capital, I am not a forgiving creditor."
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"W-What are you going to do?" Garrett whimpered, backing away until his back hit the side of my truck. "You can't put me in prison! I'm your brother!"
"I'm not going to put you in prison," I replied softly. "I'm going to put you to work."
