Chapter 1: Debt
One of the things I hate most in the world is to be disturbed while I’m sleeping- especially on a Saturday morning. So when loud, angry voices ruin my beauty sleep, I can barely restrain myself from jumping out of the bed, racing down the stairs and attacking the person who dares to ruin my peaceful morning.
I try to ignore the voices and return to sleep, but I can still hear their words so clearly that they might as well be screaming them into my ears.
“What is this; you said we had a year! Why has it suddenly been shortened to two weeks?” I hear my mom yell. It's easy to imagine how her eyes are burning with pure rage when she uses that tone.
“I’m sorry, but this is the order from the GM of Cenwell. There’s nothing I can do,” a male voice answers apologetically.
“This is ridiculous–”
"I’m sorry, ma’am.”
I groan as I reluctantly get up. It’s impossible to ignore them anymore–especially when my mom sounds like she’s about to rip someone’s head off. I stumble down the stairs towards the voices, not bothering to make myself look presentable. Strolling into the kitchen, I find a handsome, well-dressed man standing by the kitchen door. Mom is glaring angrily at him.
“Mom, what is this?” I ask her, rubbing my eyes.
She waves her hand dismissively. “Nothing you need to worry about, darling. Go back to sleep.”
“Like that’s an option, with all your screaming,” I snap irritably, before focusing on the man again. He doesn’t look particularly familiar, although his black suit and patent leather shoes oddly remind me of someone. “Who are you?” I ask (not so) politely.
He raises an eyebrow, studying me with narrowed eyes. Obviously, he’s judging me by my striped pyjamas and messy morning hair-which must resemble a bird’s nest. Compared to his probably very expensive suit, I pretty much look like a homeless person. Not that my looks should give him any right to look down on me. I can only imagine how many fine and presentable women he must be surrounded by every day. I clench my jaw; I don't like being compared to other women. But when he answers me, he doesn’t sound arrogant at all. “I’m from Cenwell, and I’m here to–”
“Wait, the Cenwell? As in, the biggest hotel chain in the world, Cenwell?” I interrupt, my eyes widening as I remember the name.
“Yes, and I’m here because–”
“What are you people doing here again? You came last week too; I thought you were done bothering us.”
His eyes pop out indignantly. “Excuse me?”
“Ronnie,” Mom cuts in, gently grabbing my arm from behind. “This is not something you need to get involved in. Please go upstairs and let me take care of it.”
“Mom, this is about Mailand again, isn’t it? Uncle’s hotel?”
“Yes, but –”
“If it has something do with his hotel, then it’s my business,” I announce, standing firmly in place.
The man turns to Mom. “Where is Mr. Durham?” he asks, looking like he's fed up with this. “This is a conversation I need to have with him.”
“He’s out of town this week,” she replies icily, her gentle tone completely gone.
“So he has money to go on a vacation, but he can’t pay the debt that he owes to Cenwell?” he says curtly.
Mom’s jaw drops. She opens her mouth to answer, but I step in front of her. “What are you talking about?” I demand.
He looks at me with pursed lips. “Mr. Durham owes Cenwell ten million dollars. This property belongs to Cenwell, which again belongs to the Porter family. Mr. Durham has not been able to pay his debt; therefore, Mailand hotel will be demolished, along with every other house that stands on this property.”
“Including ours?” I whisper, my eyes wide with shock.
He sighs, now looking sympathetic. “Including yours.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Mom, what is this? It can’t be true. Uncle, he…he can’t have,” I flinch as I think about it; that Uncle’s beloved hotel and possibly my own house really belong to someone else. And that they’re about to be destroyed. Our homes…Uncle’s home…
Mom only looks at me in despair.
“Why has no one told me about this?” I ask, feeling the anger building up inside.
“This is not the time to ponder over what and why,” the man says before Mom can answer. “I came here to speak to Mr. Durham himself, to see if it was possible to negotiate. I don’t like this anymore than you do,” he adds, his voice gentler. “But he’s not even here, and he has been given more than enough time and way too many chances. I’m afraid this was the last chance he had.”
“Wait; please,” Mom begs.
“You say you don’t like this anymore than we do,” I interrupt. “Then don’t let it happen. Do something; help us.” I say each word loud and clear, hoping that they’ll get through to him. My voice is saturated with desperation, and I'm sure he can hear it.
“My hands are tied. There’s absolutely nothing more I can do.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say he actually looked sad, like he wishes there was something he could do. “The GM will be here tomorrow, and then I suppose everything will finally be…settled.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” I ask dully. “Nothing at all?”
“No; I’m sorry.” He turns on his heels, shooting us one last apologetic glance before walking out.
“Wait!” I yell, following him without thinking. “Please, wait.”
He stops dead in his tracks, turning around to look at me curiously.
I open and close my mouth repeatedly, not sure what to say. This is the part where I’m supposed to come up with a speech about how much this hotel means to me and my Uncle, and say something so touching that it will change his mind about destroying our home. This is the chance I have to make it right. But instead…nothing comes out of my mouth.
“Please don’t do this,” I finally plead. It’s the best I can manage - how pathetic.
“I told you, it’s not my decision.”
“But – but this is our home. And the hotel…it’s all my uncle has. It means everything to him. Do you know what will happen to him if you destroy it? What will he do? He – we – we don’t have anything else.” The tears threaten to spill over my lashes, but I refuse to shed a single drop. I hate crying in front of others. I hate having to beg to someone. I hate looking weak.
He blinks several times, his expression unreadable. Then, out of nowhere, he suddenly takes my hand and squeezes it gently. “Believe me when I say this,” he says, his dark brown eyes boring straight into mine. “If there was anything I could do to stop this- to change the GM’s mind - I would’ve done it. And it kills me that you will all lose your homes and jobs, but it’s not my decision.”
“Can’t you talk to the GM?” I ask helplessly, already letting the last shred of hope that’s left inside of me fade away.
“I’ve tried,” he answers, sounding equally as miserable as me. He touches my cheek, before heading towards the waiting car. “I’m sorry...Ronnie. Goodbye.”
And with those last words he drives away, leaving behind a helpless girl that feels like her life has completely fallen apart.
