The Man Who Owned The Town

Chapter 6: The Countdown

Michael’s Warehouse

The warehouse smelled of rust, sweat, and something metallic.

Bare bulbs hung from the ceiling, swinging slightly and throwing long shadows across the concrete walls.

Freddy was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. His face was swollen, one eye almost closed. Blood had dried at the corner of his mouth.

Brad and Logan stood behind him, hands on his shoulders, keeping him still.

Michael stood in front of him with his arms crossed. His sleeves were rolled up. No cigarette this time. Just a quiet, flat stare that made the room feel colder.

“Where’s the other one-point-three million, Freddy?” Michael asked. “The girls only found seven hundred thousand.”

Freddy lifted his head slowly. His lip trembled.

“I… I don’t know. I swear.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Michael’s voice did not rise.

That was what made it worse.

He looked at Brad and gave the smallest nod.

Brad grabbed Freddy’s right hand and slammed it palm-down against a metal table. Logan held his arm in place.

Freddy started fighting against them. “No, boss. Please...”

Michael walked to the corner of the warehouse and picked up an axe.

Then he turned around.

Slow steps.

The blade caught the weak light as he walked closer.

Freddy’s breathing turned wild. “Wait! Wait, I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

Michael stopped a few steps away. He raised one eyebrow.

“Talk.”

Freddy was sobbing now. Tears cut through the dried blood on his face.

“I hid it! I hid the other one-point-three! It wasn’t for me, I swear. It wasn’t for me!”

Michael tilted his head. “Then who was it for?”

Freddy choked on a breath.

“J...John,” he stammered. “John made me do it.”

The room went dead quiet.

Michael lowered the axe slightly.

“Who’s John?”

Freddy swallowed hard. His whole body shook.

“John Brown. He’s an old friend of mine. He helped me when my mother was sick. When I had nothing, he helped me. His company is falling apart, boss. He was about to lose everything.”

Freddy squeezed his eyes shut.

“He begged me. He said he only needed one bag. He said he would pay you back before you even noticed.”

Brad and Logan exchanged a look.

Michael stared at Freddy for a long moment.

Then he chuckled.

Quietly.

There was no humor in it.

He leaned down until Freddy could see the darkness in his eyes.

“So you betrayed me,” Michael said softly, “because your friend needed money for his failing business?”

Freddy froze.

Michael straightened and slowly turned the axe in his hand, studying the blade like he was bored.

“John Brown,” he repeated. “Ravencrest’s golden boy. The man who owns half the industrial side of town.”

He looked at Brad.

“Loveleen Brown. Is she related to him?”

Brad nodded once. “His daughter.”

Freddy’s eyes widened. “No. No, boss, please. Lovely doesn’t know anything. She didn’t steal from you. She doesn’t know about John.”

Michael ignored him.

“Keep following the girls,” he told Brad. “I want to know everything they do.”

“Yes, boss.”

Michael placed the axe down on the table with a hard clang.

Then he turned and walked out.

The warehouse door slammed shut behind him.

Freddy’s scream came a second later.

---

Lovely’s Bedroom

Lovely paced across her room, back and forth, back and forth. She chewed her thumbnail until it hurt.

Joy sat on the edge of the bed, tapping her fingers against her knee. The black duffel bag rested between them on the comforter, still half-full.

“We’re cooked,” Lovely muttered. “That man is going to kill us if we don’t get that money.”

Joy did not look up. “And we already spent three hundred and forty thousand. Where are we supposed to get another three hundred and forty thousand?”

Lovely stopped pacing and stared at her.

“Joy, he thinks we found two million. Two million. And he wants the full two million back.”

Joy dragged both hands down her face. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Lovely threw her hands in the air. “Sell my iPad. My laptop. My clothes. Maybe Garry’s PS5. Mom’s car...”

“Whoa.” Joy stood up quickly. “No. You are not selling your brother’s things or Karen’s car.”

Lovely turned on her, her eyes shiny with panic.

“Then what?” she snapped. “Do you want us to die before you finally understand how dangerous he is?”

Joy flinched.

“I understand, Lovely. I do.” Her voice shook. “I’m just saying we sell what belongs to us first. Not your family’s things. We can sell the stuff we bought.”

Lovely gave a short, bitter laugh.

“That won’t make two million, Joy. Nothing we own is worth two million.”

She looked at Joy more closely, and something clicked.

“And why did you tell him it was seven hundred thousand? I thought we didn’t count the money.”

Joy’s face fell.

“I did count it,” she admitted quietly. “I counted it while you were asleep.”

Lovely’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“I was scared,” Joy said, her voice cracking. “You saw the way he looked at us. I just panicked. The words came out before I could stop them.”

Lovely pressed both hands over her face.

“We’re fucked.”

The words hung in the room.

Lovely let out a shaky breath and dropped onto the bed beside the bag. The money inside suddenly looked smaller.

Useless.

Three days.

That was all they had.

Outside, rain began tapping against the window. Soft at first. Then harder, louder, like it was trying to wash the whole night away.

Lovely stared at the bag. At the money that had looked like freedom only a day ago.

Her voice broke.

“We can’t pay it, Joy. We don’t have two million. We will never have two million in three days. Not in Ravencrest.”

Joy looked up, tears filling her eyes.

Lovely grabbed both of her hands and held on tight.

“Joy…” she whispered.

Joy swallowed.

“We should run.”