My Second Chance
Copyright© 2026 by BillMax
Chapter 9: Business Negotiation
“Claire, what are you doing?”
“I have one question for you,” Claire said coldly, cutting him off. “Where is the property deed?”
Marcus blinked. “What property deed?”
Claire grabbed her suitcase and started for the door. When Marcus caught her arm, she shook him off violently.
“Don’t touch me.”
“What happened?” Marcus panicked. “Even if it’s the end of me, at least let me die knowing why.”
“Still pretending? Only you and I have keys to this apartment, and now the deed is gone. Did it fly away on its own?”
Fresh tears fell, a mixture of agony and disappointment.
The property deed is gone?
Marcus hadn’t expected that. “I didn’t take it. Claire, believe me. I have money now. There’s no reason for me to take it.”
He pulled out his phone to show her his bank balance, but Claire only shook her head and kept walking toward the door.
“That’s right. We’re not the only ones with keys. Your mother has a set too. I even saw her here this afternoon,” Marcus said urgently.
Claire paused and turned slowly. Her face showed not relief but thick disbelief, as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time.
“Marcus, do you know why I put up with you for two years? Because even though you drank and gambled, you never laid a hand on me. Like you said, you never sank lower than an animal. I always had hope you’d wake up one day. Even tonight, I was thrilled you might finally be turning a corner. But unfortunately—”
She smiled bitterly. Tears fell one after another, each one cutting Marcus open.
“To clear your own name, you throw mud at my mother. Our names are the only ones on the deed. What could she do with it? That excuse wouldn’t fool a child, and yet you came up with it. Marcus, you’ve let me down too much.”
“But I really didn’t take it!”
With even basic trust gone, Marcus wished he could carve out his heart to prove his innocence. All he could do was stand in her path.
Claire wiped her tears hard and looked at him like a stranger.
“Marcus, don’t force me to make a decision while I’m angry.”
Helpless, Marcus swallowed his despair and spoke gently. “All right. I won’t force you. But it’s late, and it’s not safe for you to go out alone.”
“I don’t want to spend another minute under the same roof as you.”
“Then I’ll leave.”
Marcus grabbed his keys and jacket, opened the door, and tried to smile. “Be a good girl. Go to your mother’s place tomorrow. Don’t make me worry. Whether you believe it or not, I’m not the man I was yesterday. I’m not even the man I used to be. Because right now I love you more than I did two years ago.”
The door closed. Claire couldn’t hold back anymore. She crouched down and wept.
After three cigarettes downstairs, Marcus’s anguish eased slightly. He looked up at the lit window and sighed.
Two years of damage had built a wall in Claire’s heart. A little tenderness and a few sweet words wouldn’t breach it.
Only real change—change so obvious it couldn’t be denied—gave them any chance.
Wallowing wasn’t Marcus’s style. If this still needed time, he might as well fulfill another wish in the meantime.
He left the neighborhood, took a cab to the old part of town, and entered a three-story concrete building with a sign that read Friendship Inn.
At the top of the second-floor stairs, a brawny man in a tank top was eating watermelon. When he saw Marcus, a sly grin crossed his face. “Yo, Marcus! You borrowed a hundred grand yesterday. Got money to play again already?”
“I came to repay the loan.” Marcus sat across the table. “Ask Leo to bring the IOU.”
Leo Harding blinked, then his expression darkened. “Looks like you struck gold today. You want to repay? Fine. You’ve got a one-month term, and not one day of the thirty-day interest gets waived. Early repayment comes with a fee. That’s the rule.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “How much?”
“Ten percent.”
“Are you joking? By that logic, waiting until the due date would be cheaper.”
Leo lit a cigarette. “Usually, yes. But you said you wanted to pay today, so the situation changed.”
“What changed?”
“We just decided to raise the rate today. You owe a hundred thousand. In a month, principal and interest come to one hundred eighty thousand. Unless—” Leo chuckled. “You keep playing. We’re still friends, and friends can negotiate anything.”
Marcus understood. They didn’t mind early repayment. They just didn’t want a one-and-done transaction.
Interest on a hundred grand was nothing compared to draining every drop from a man trapped in a gambling den.
This wasn’t merely unscrupulous. It was inhuman.
Marcus shook his head, suddenly seized Leo’s hand, and pressed it flat on the table. He picked up the watermelon knife and drove it between Leo’s index and middle fingers with a thud.
“I promised my wife I’ll never gamble again. Sorry, but let’s play something more exciting instead.”
“What are you doing? Let go of Brother Leo!”
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