He Bought His Mistress A Penthouse In The Building I Own Chapter 11

He Bought His Mistress A Penthouse In The Building I Own Chapter 11: The Predator’s Loan

The frosted glass of the one-way mirror felt like a block of ice against my forehead.

I leaned into the chill. The private dining room on my side remained pitch black. On the other side, harsh pendant lights illuminated a massive mahogany table.

“You look terrible, Julian.”

Victor Kane’s voice crackled through the micro-receiver in my palm. He sat perfectly straight in a high-backed leather chair, his tailored suit immaculate.

Julian dropped into the seat across from him. He frantically adjusted the collar of his wrinkled dress shirt.

“It’s been a long three days,” Julian muttered.

“I heard about your car.”

“A banking error. It’s being resolved.”

“Right. A banking error.” Victor slid a thick manila folder across the polished wood. “Open it.”

Julian flipped the cover back. His eyes scanned the top page.

“Thirty percent?” Julian’s voice spiked in pitch. “Victor, this is extortion. The standard rate is eight.”

“The standard rate applies to men with credit.”

“I have credit!”

“You have frozen accounts and a furious mistress.” Victor leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “My sources tell me Seraphina locked you out of the Vanguard Trust yesterday morning.”

“A temporary misunderstanding.”

“A permanent eviction. You don’t even have an apartment anymore.”

Julian slammed his hand flat on the table.

“Do you want to do business, or do you want to insult me?” Julian demanded.

“I want a guarantee.” Victor tapped a silver pen against the folder. “Three million dollars in cash, wired to your offshore account by midnight. In exchange, I need collateral.”

I squeezed the tiny black receiver. The hard plastic dug into my skin. A layer of cold sweat coated my palm, making the device slip slightly. I adjusted my grip, digging my fingernails into the seam of the casing.

“I have assets,” Julian insisted.

“Name one.”

“My business. Reyes Interiors.”

Victor laughed. The sound echoed harshly through the earpiece.

“A shell company with zero revenue,” Victor mocked. “Try again.”

Julian shifted his weight. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Vanguard Real Estate,” Julian offered.

My stomach tightened. I pressed my face closer to the glass.

“You don’t own Vanguard,” Victor pointed out. “Seraphina owns Vanguard.”

“I hold exactly two percent of the founder’s equity.”

“Since when?”

“Since our engagement. She transferred the shares as a sign of good faith.”

A sharp, dry chuckle escaped my throat. The sound bounced off the dark walls of my empty room.

It was a bizarre reaction. I should have been furious. Instead, I found his absolute stupidity hilarious.

Julian actually believed the paperwork he signed last year gave him voting power. He never read the fine print. They were phantom shares. A vesting schedule tied entirely to a wedding that would never take place. Without that certificate, that paper was worth less than the napkin under Victor’s water glass.

“Two percent of Vanguard is worth roughly eight million,” Victor calculated aloud.

“More than enough to cover a three-million-dollar loan,” Julian countered.

“If the shares are real.”

“They are fully executed.” Julian reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a folded document and tossed it onto the table. “Review it yourself.”

Victor unfolded the paper. He retrieved a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket and slid them onto his nose.

Silence stretched across the two rooms. The only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning vent above my head.

My thumb rubbed the side of the receiver. The moisture on my skin made the plastic slick.

“This is a restricted stock agreement,” Victor noted.

“It proves my ownership.”

“It proves you have a stake. But it is entirely illiquid. I cannot sell this on the open market if you default.”

“I won’t default. I just need capital to bridge the gap until Seraphina calms down.”

“And if she doesn’t calm down?”

“She will. She always forgives me.”

My fingernails bit half-moons into my palms. I didn’t loosen my fists until the receiver creaked under the pressure.

“She cut your cards, Julian,” Victor reminded him. “She repossessed your vehicle.”

“A tantrum,” Julian dismissed. “She found out about Chloe. Women get emotional. Give her a week, and she will be begging me to come back to the villa.”

“You are incredibly confident for a man wearing scuffed shoes.”

Julian tucked his feet under his chair.

“Are you going to fund the loan or not?” Julian snapped.

“Thirty percent interest,” Victor repeated. “Due in full in ninety days.”

“Fine.”

“And I keep the share certificates in my vault until the debt is cleared.”

“Agreed.”

Victor reached into his inner jacket pocket. He produced a second document and laid it precisely next to the first.

“Then we have a deal,” Victor announced. “But I require one final layer of security.”

Julian frowned. “What is this?”

“A personal guarantee.”

“I just gave you the equity!”

“The equity is tied to a private corporation. If Vanguard goes under, or if these shares face a legal dispute, my collateral vanishes. I need your personal liability on the line.”

Julian stared at the new sheet of paper.

“If I sign this, you can come after my future earnings,” Julian realized.

“If you pay me back in ninety days, nothing happens.”

“Victor, this is extreme.”

“You called me, Julian. You begged for a meeting. If you don’t like the terms, the door is right behind you.”

Julian didn’t move. He glanced over his shoulder at the heavy oak door.

He had nowhere else to go. No car. No apartment. No credit cards. And Chloe was likely still screaming at him over the phone about the broken necklace.

“Three million,” Julian confirmed quietly.

“Wired directly to your Caymans account tonight.”

Julian reached for the silver pen.

I held my breath. The chill from the window seeped deeper into my forehead, numbing my skin completely.

Julian pulled the contract closer. He hovered the metal tip of the pen exactly three millimeters above the line marked *Guarantor*.