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CHAPTER 127: THE $347M RESTITUTION

Author: Kene Smart
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-05-04 17:52:22

ISLA'S POV

January 28, 2026. 1:03 PM.

Morrison Estate. My office.

I sit at the desk, the laptop screen glowing cool against my tired eyes.

Beside me, Gabriel has shed the tactical gear. He’s wearing a simple shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, exposing forearms that have carried weapons for fifteen years. Now, they just rest on the arm

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  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 127: THE $347M RESTITUTION

    ISLA'S POVJanuary 28, 2026. 1:03 PM.Morrison Estate. My office.I sit at the desk, the laptop screen glowing cool against my tired eyes.Beside me, Gabriel has shed the tactical gear. He’s wearing a simple shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, exposing forearms that have carried weapons for fifteen years. Now, they just rest on the armrests, relaxed but present.I feel the physical weight of the Enter key under my index finger. The plastic is smooth, cold.My father spent his life building this weapon. The demolition protocol.Now I’m executing it.The screen displays a cascading list of Walsh's offshore accounts. Dozens of them. Cayman Is

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 126: THE PROFESSIONAL DEACTIVATION

    GABRIEL'S POVJanuary 28, 2026. 10:07 AM.The wind on the north perimeter cuts through my jacket, carrying the salt-heavy bite of the Atlantic. I walk the ridge, my stride automatic, boots finding purchase on the frozen earth.The island is quiet. Not the tense silence of an ambush, but the emptiness of a battlefield after the smoke clears.I pull my phone from my pocket. The screen glows against the grey morning light as I log into the Hunt Capital contractor portal.ACCOUNT STATUS: DEACTIVATED EFFECTIVE: JANUARY 28, 2026No insurance. No legal cover. No paycheck clearing at the end of the month.Technically, I am a trespasser on private land.

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 125: THE CABINET OF EQUALS

    ISLA'S POVJanuary 28, 2026. 8:03 AM.Morrison Estate. The boardroom.The sun is fully up now, spilling a harsh, golden light through the windows that exposes every dust mote dancing in the air.The helicopters are gone. Just black specks dissolving into the southern horizon, taking Hale, taking Walsh, taking the rotting weight of the past with them. The silence they leave behind is heavy, ringing in my ears like the aftermath of a gunshot.For the first time in my life, I don’t hear my father’s ghost whispering about debts and vaults. I don’t hear the syndicate’s static.I hear silence. Absolute. Clean.Sarah Kim and Elena Vasquez are still here, sitting

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 124: THE RETROACTIVE ERASURE

    ISLA'S POVJanuary 28, 2026. 4:33 AM.We walk back along the ridge, boots crunching on frozen earth.The fire on the cliffs is dying behind us, reducing itself to a column of grey smoke and a bed of fading embers. Behind that heat lies the farmhouse, the sub-cellar, and the ghost we just buried alive.Michael Hale Sr. is still down there. Breathing. Waiting for federal custody.But he isn't a monster anymore. He isn’t a myth or a syndicate architect. He is just a man. Dying, broken, and small.I replay the rasp of his voice in the dark. You're absolute.It wasn't a compliment. It was a surrender.

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 123: THE SONIC DETERRENT BYPASS

    GABRIEL'S POVJanuary 28, 2026. 3:17 AM.The hatch screams as we open it, rusted steel grinding against iron. Beneath it lies a throat of absolute darkness.Isla descends first. I follow three steps behind, my boots finding purchase on rungs that are slick with condensation and corrosion.Twenty feet down. Thirty. The air changes as we drop. The biting wind of the Maine surface dies, replaced by a stillness that chills the sweat on my neck. It smells antiseptic and dead—chemical cleaners masking the scent of wet earth and rot.Isla hits the bottom. Her boots strike concrete with a flat, hollow sound.I drop beside her, scanning the space. It’s a tunnel, narrow and oppressive, the ceiling low enough to scrape the

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 122: THE SCORCH OF MORRISON

    ISLA'S POVJanuary 28, 2026. 3:07 AM.Morrison Estate. The airstrip.I step off the jet, and my boots hit ground that feels harder than concrete—frozen solid, unforgiving.The cold is immediate, a physical assault that bites through my tactical jacket and stings the back of my throat. But beneath the chill, I feel something else. Something heavy and permanent.Connection. To this dirt. To this rock.I burned $4.7 billion to keep it. I threw a fortune into the Atlantic just to stand here without owing anyone a damn thing.And I’d do it again.Because this isn’t just property. It’s sovereignty. I’m not a v

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 29: THE REFLECTIVE WITNESS

    The air in Gabriel's office vibrates with tension, a pressurized hum that hurts my ears.The photo is still on the screen. My father's safety vest, the reflective tape catching the flash. The reflection of a man holding a manila folder with the Hunt Capital logo.Six years ago. Two weeks before Dad

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 27: MARKET-VALUE BETRAYAL

    ISLA'S POVMorning light cuts through the library windows, cold and gray. The storm has passed, but it left the air feeling damp and heavy, smelling of wet soot and old rain.I'm still curled in the leather chair, wrapped in a blanket Gabriel must have draped over me sometime after the power kicked

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 12: THE LIMESTONE FORTRESS

    ISLA'S POVThe "medical facility" looks nothing like a hospital.It sits on the Upper East Side, a limestone fortress where the air smells of exhaust filtered through money. The entrance is marble, veined with gold that probably cost more than my yearly salary. Doormen in suits—tailored, expensive

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 8: THE COUTURE PERFORMANCE

    ISLA'S POVThe navy silk feels like water against my skin.I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress fits with terrifying precision—$12,400 worth of Italian craftsmanship molded to my body like it was designed for me specifically.Maybe it was.The diamond on my finger catches t

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