Chapter 6: The Wolf Bares His Teeth
I stood in the hallway of the apartment I technically owned, feeling more exposed than I ever had in a boardroom. Sarah stared at me, the bat lowered now, but her eyes still guarded by years of survival.
“You were the kid in the passenger seat?” she repeated quietly.
“My dad left before I was born,” I said, my voice rough. “My mom scrubbed floors. We lived in a car for six months when I was eight. I promised her I’d buy her a castle one day. She died of a treatable heart condition because we didn’t have insurance—two weeks before I made my first million.”
The bat slipped from her fingers. The silence that followed was heavy, crowded with ghosts.
Then a violent pounding shattered it.
“Police! Open up!”
Sarah gasped, color draining from her face. “They found me. The warrant… the unpaid tickets… or the car registration…” Her thoughts spiraled.
I stepped past her. “Stay here.”
“No, Julian, don’t—”
I opened the door.
It wasn’t the police.
Two men stood there in cheap leather jackets, reeking of cigarettes and menace—the kind who flashed fake badges to terrify single mothers. QuickCash’s collection muscle. I recognized the breed instantly.
“We’re looking for Miller,” the larger one snarled, trying to push past me. “She’s late on the—”
He froze when he really saw me.
I wasn’t in my pea coat anymore. I stood there in a tailored suit, a Patek Philippe gleaming on my wrist—worth more than their combined futures. I didn’t look like prey.
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
“I’m the man who just bought her debt,” I said calmly. “And I’m the man recording this conversation.” I raised my phone. “Impersonating an officer is a felony. Harassment is a misdemeanor. Trespassing adds another charge.”
The second man scoffed. “Listen, rich boy, we have a contract—”
“I’ve read it,” I cut in. “Usurious interest rates violating Massachusetts General Law Chapter 271, Section 49. My lawyers are bored and hungry. If you ever step foot here again, I won’t just sue your company—I’ll buy it, dismantle it, and make sure you spend the rest of your careers doing prison laundry.”
I stepped forward.
The Wolf wasn’t posturing.
“Get. Out.”
They exchanged a look. They knew this wasn’t a fight fists could win. They turned and left fast.
I locked the door.
Sarah was crying—not from panic this time, but release.
“They’re gone?” she whispered.
“They’re gone,” I said. “For good.”
Maya peeked out, clutching her teddy bear. “Did you tell the bad men to go away?”
I knelt to her level. “Yeah, Maya. I told them to go away.”
She grinned, gap-toothed and radiant. “I knew it. God sent the Dad.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. I looked up at Sarah.
She wasn’t seeing a stranger anymore.
She was seeing a shield.
