Chapter 6: Confrontation at the Curb
I stood beside my old car, leaning back against the driver's door with my arms crossed, completely unbothered by his dramatic outburst. "You wanted to discuss the debt I allegedly owe you, Marcus," I said, my voice smooth and ice-cold. "I thought it was time we brought all the numbers into the open light."
"You bought the Ridgeview Complex?" he stammered, staring at me as if I had suddenly transformed into a complete stranger right before his eyes. "That's impossible! That building sold for eight million dollars in cash! Where would you ever get that kind of capital?"
"While you were spending every dollar of your commissions on leased luxury sports cars and backyard renovations to impress people you don't even like, I was building a portfolio," I replied coldly. "I don't waste my wealth on an illusion of success, Marcus. I build actual power."
He took a step toward me, his arrogant posture completely crumbling into sheer panic. "You can't raise my commercial rent by forty percent! It will wipe out my firm's operating margin for the entire fiscal year! I have payroll to meet!"
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"Then I suggest you cut back on your personal expenses," I answered, echoing the exact phrase he had sneered at me during a family dinner three years ago. "Or perhaps you can find a cheaper building to rent, though I doubt any landlord in this city will give you the terms I currently extend."
"Please," he rasped, the word tasting like poison in his mouth as his eyes darted around the quiet school zone. "We're family. You wouldn't actually ruin my business over a silly joke at a barbecue, would you?"
