Library
Search
Home / Romance / The Debt Collector's Price / CHAPTER 41: THE AFFECTION AUDIT

Share

CHAPTER 41: THE AFFECTION AUDIT

Author: Kene Smart
last update publish date: 2026-03-15 14:44:03

ISLA'S POV

The witness stand is cold wood polished to a shine that feels unnatural under my palms.

I rest my hands on the rail, feeling the grain dig into my skin, grounding me against the glare of the courtroom lights. There is no jury box—bankruptcy court is a bench trial—but the gallery is full. Press. Creditors. Spectators who treat financial ruin like a spectator sport.

I don’t look at Gabriel. I can’t. If I see his face, the fragile resolve I’ve built will shatter.

James Whitmore stands.
Continue to read this book for free
Scan code to download App
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Locked Chapter

Latest chapter

  • 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 121: THE THERMAL RIDGE BEACON

    GABRIEL'S POVJanuary 28, 2026. 2:03 AM.Atlantic airspace. Thirty-seven thousand feet.The cabin is submerged in darkness, lit only by the low, blue wash of the tactical tablets and the instrument panels up front. The drone of the engines is a constant, vibrating hum that seems to settle in my bones.My ribs are screaming. It’s not an ache anymore; it’s a sharp, jagged reminder of the Zurich bank with every shallow inhale. The vest caught the round, absorbing the penetration, but the kinetic energy cracked something deep.I shift in the leather seat, trying to find an angle that doesn’t feel like a knife twisting. Pain radiates through my chest, hot and insistent.Isla is asleep across from me. Her head rests against the cold window, her breathing steady and rhythmic.I watch her. The woman I love. The woman I chose.I’m not protecting a principal anymore. I’m not guarding a client or securing a high-value asset. I’m protecting a life I finally want to live.The contract is dead. The

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 120: THE GLOBAL MARKET MELTDOWN

    ISLA'S POVJanuary 27, 2026. 4:03 PM.The safe house is silent, save for the hum of the laptop on the dusty table.The screen glows with the fallout of my choice. News feeds cascade in every language, a waterfall of red banners and urgent chyrons.BLACK SWAN REGISTRY LEAKED: GLOBAL POLITICAL CRISIS 1,847 NAMES EXPOSED: CORRUPTION SPANS FOUR DECADES HUNT CAPITAL CEO ISLA BENNETT BEHIND UNPRECEDENTED LEAKI scroll through the coverage. Politicians resigning in disgrace. CEOs being led out of boardrooms in handcuffs. Markets crashing in Tokyo, London, and New York.The world is burning. And I am the one who lit the match.The absolute weight of it settles on my shoulders, heavy and real, like a physical mantle. I am the woman who broke the world.I look over at Gabriel. He is sitting on the edge of the narrow bed, his shirt off, ribs wrapped in fresh tape. He watches me with a stillness that anchors the room. He hasn't changed. He is the only constant in the chaos I’ve unleashed."Regret

  • 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 6: THE MUSEUM OF EXCESS

    ISLA'S POVEverything I own fits in three suitcases.That’s the volumetric measure of twenty-six years. I stand in the center of the studio apartment one last time, the air already smelling stale and unlived-in. The packed bags sit on the futon, looking like they don't belong to me anymore.The lan

  • 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

  • The Debt Collector's Price   CHAPTER 7: FORENSIC VALUATION

    ISLA'S POV"Can I trust you, or are you my latest liability?"The question hangs in the cold, recycled air of the hallway, heavier than the marble floors. Gabriel looms over me, the light from his office cutting a sharp line down his face, casting half of him in shadow. He looks ready to evict me.

More Chapters

You may also like

Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on GoodNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP
DMCA.com Protection Status