“Coincidence?”
“Yes.”
Daniel laughed without humor.
Victoria's expression hardened.
“Do not do that.”
“Do what?”
“Decide what happened before I explain it.”
“Funny.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What’s funny?”
“That sounds like the kind of thing a person says when their company is about to take somebody’s building.”
“I did not know.”
Daniel folded the notice.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it matters.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.”
“Not to the bank.”
“We are not a bank.”
“Congratulations.”
Victoria stepped closer.
“Hale Meridian buys distressed assets through multiple funds. I do not personally review individual small commercial notes.”
Daniel laughed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The billionaire sentence.”
Her face cooled.
“What would you prefer? A lie?”
“I’d prefer not to have your company owning the place where my kid sleeps because I can’t afford a babysitter.”
That hit.
Victoria looked toward the office.
Daniel regretted the sentence immediately.
Not because it was false.
Because Lily had nothing to do with his anger.
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I need you to go.”
Victoria stared.
“Daniel.”
“Take the car.”
“You haven’t heard—”
“I fixed your car.”
His voice remained quiet.
“Invoice paid.”
“Daniel.”
“We’re done.”
For the first time that night, Victoria Hale looked as though she did not know what to say.
Then she nodded.
She walked toward the office.
Daniel stepped in front of her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not going to wake her.”
“Then?”
Victoria opened her handbag.
Removed a business card.
She placed it on the desk beside the sleeping child's backpack.
Daniel stared.
“No.”
“It's my direct number.”
“I don't want—”
“Then throw it away after I leave.”
She met his eyes.
“But before you do, give me one day.”
“For what?”
“To find out why my company owns your loan.”
“I can tell you why. I missed payments.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Daniel said nothing.
Victoria continued.
“You said thirty days?”
He looked at the notice.
“Twenty-six now.”
“One day.”
“What happens tomorrow?”
“I call you.”
“And if I don’t answer?”
“I call again.”
Daniel almost smiled despite himself.
“That sounds like harassment.”
“I prefer persistence.”
“I noticed.”
Victoria picked up her handbag.
At the bay door, she stopped.
Morning sunlight outlined her against the wet street.
She looked back.
“$138.”
Daniel folded his arms.
“Yes.”
She smiled faintly.
“You might be the first man who ever cost me more trouble by charging me less.”
Then she left.
Daniel stood alone beside the Carrera GT as the tow driver lowered the ramps.
He watched the silver Porsche disappear into the Chicago morning.
Then he looked toward the business card.
VICTORIA HALE
FOUNDER & CHIEF EXECUTIVE
HALE MERIDIAN CAPITAL
Direct number handwritten beneath.
He wanted to throw it away.
Instead, he slid it into the invoice drawer.
He told himself that meant nothing.