Three days later, the money hadn't arrived.
I watched the banking app. The balance didn't move.
I wasn't surprised. A man like that doesn't give up easily.
At ten in the morning, an unknown number called.
It was Ethan. His voice was rough, like he hadn't slept in days.
"Shana. We need to talk."
"Where's the money?"
"...I couldn't put it together."
"So?"
"The apartment — I can give you that. But is there any way we could do installments —"
"The agreement is perfectly clear. Three days, or we go to court."
"Are you trying to destroy me? I've lost my job! The whole family knows what happened! What more do you want!"
"I want back what's mine."
Silence.
"One meeting. One last time."
"Where?"
"The café near your hotel. It's a public place. I won't try anything."
I glanced at my
