FREYA'S POV
I listened to Thomas deliver his insane demand, and my entire body tensed because I absolutely refused to participate in their dysfunctional family drama. I stared at the older man in the hospital bed, and I shook my head firmly to communicate my complete rejection of his ridiculous proposal.
"You need to focus entirely on your medical recovery instead of orchestrating my personal life," I told Thomas in a very strict tone, although I still kept my voice relatively quiet so I would not disturb the other patients on the cardiology floor. "I am deeply relieved that you survived your cardiac emergency, but I will never marry your arrogant son under any circumstances, and I am leaving this hospital right now."
I did not wait for Mason to reply to my statement, and I turned around immediately to walk out of the private recovery room. Mason stood completely frozen next to the medical monitor, and he did not attempt to stop me from leaving because he was just as shocked by the ultimatum as I was. I walked down the long, brightly lit corridor and pressed the plastic button to call the metal elevator so I could escape from their overwhelming presence.
After I exited the large glass doors of the medical facility, I walked two blocks down the concrete sidewalk until I reached the designated public transportation stop. The afternoon air was incredibly humid, and I sat on the green wooden bench to wait for twenty minutes before the large city bus finally arrived at the curb. I climbed the rubber stairs and dropped a few metal coins into the clear plastic fare box next to the driver. I walked to the back of the moving vehicle and sat down on a worn fabric seat.
The heavy physical exhaustion of working a ten-hour shift finally settled into my muscles, and my feet throbbed painfully inside my shoes while the bus navigated through the busy afternoon traffic. The interior of the bus smelled strongly of diesel fuel and damp newspaper, and I rested my head against the cold glass window. I watched the tall commercial buildings pass by, and I mentally calculated exactly how many extra hours I needed to work to afford my basic groceries for the week, but my mind was completely focused on returning to Carl's Diner so I could finish my scheduled work shift and check on my employer.
The bus eventually stopped at the corner of my neighborhood, and I stepped down onto the familiar pavement. I walked quickly down the street and unlocked the heavy steel door at the back of the restaurant. I stepped into the small employee breakroom and tied my stained denim apron around my waist before I walked over to the deep sink to wash my hands with antibacterial soap. I scrubbed my skin vigorously because I wanted to wash away the sterile hospital smell, and I dried my hands on a rough paper towel before I threw it into the trash receptacle.
When I pushed the swinging wooden doors to enter the main kitchen area, I immediately noticed that something was terribly wrong. I heard aggressive male voices shouting from the front dining room, and I quickly walked past the metal counters to investigate the loud disturbance. Two very large, intimidating men wearing cheap black leather jackets were standing directly over Carl near the cash register. These unknown men were physically pushing my boss backward against the laminated counter, and they looked incredibly dangerous.
"You need to leave my restaurant right now because we do not have any cash on the premises, and I will call the police if you continue to threaten my employees," Carl stated bravely, although his hands were shaking violently while he gripped the edge of the counter.
The taller man laughed maliciously and shoved Carl harder against the wood. "The police will not care about a simple financial collection, old man, and you will regret interfering with our business."
"We do not care about your daily operating expenses, and we do not care if you have to sell your personal vehicle to get the cash," the second man shouted aggressively while he grabbed the front collar of Carl's white apron. "We purchased the debt from the original collection agency, and we require the ten-thousand-dollar down payment right now."
I panicked instantly because I realized these violent men were the loan sharks who owned my deceased parents' financial debt, and they had tracked my employment location to extract the money forcibly.
"You need to let go of him immediately because he does not owe you any money!" I yelled loudly as I ran across the dining room and inserted myself physically between Carl and the aggressive debt collectors. "I am the person who owes the money, so you must deal directly with me and leave him alone."
I could smell stale cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol on their leather jackets when I stood directly in front of them. The taller man leaned forward and aggressively tapped his thick finger against my shoulder to emphasize his verbal threat.
"You think you can hide from us by working in a pathetic diner, but we know exactly where you live and we know exactly where you work," he growled. "Your parents borrowed a massive amount of money, and you inherited the legal responsibility when they died. The original collection agency grew tired of waiting for your small monthly payments, so they sold the contract to my employer, and we do not offer generous grace periods to our clients."
"We will gladly deal with you, Freya," the shorter man added while he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and waved it in the air. "You received our final warning letter this morning, so you already know that your time has expired. You will hand over the ten thousand dollars today, or my partner and I will smash every single piece of expensive cooking equipment in this kitchen until the damage equals the amount you owe us."
"I do not have that amount of cash inside the building today, but I will negotiate a weekly payment plan with you if you give me a few days to gather the funds," I pleaded desperately because I knew Carl could not afford to replace his commercial grill or his heavy espresso machine. "Please do not destroy this diner because it is my only source of income, and I will never be able to pay you if I lose my job."
"We do not negotiate with people who ignore their financial obligations," the tall man stated ruthlessly, and he lifted his heavy boot to kick a wooden dining chair across the room. The chair crashed loudly against the front window, and the glass pane vibrated violently from the forceful impact.
I braced myself for another destructive action, but the brass bell above the front entrance suddenly rang loudly. The glass door opened, and Mason walked into the diner with Leon following closely behind his shoulder. Mason had evidently followed my public bus from the hospital because he needed to speak with me about his father's insane demand, and he immediately stopped walking when he saw the chaotic situation unfolding near the cash register.
Mason stood near the entrance and watched the entire interaction with cold, calculating eyes. He did not show any physical fear toward the large men, and he did not rush forward to protect me from their aggressive posturing. Instead, he observed my obvious desperation and Carl's intense fear, and he mentally connected my current financial crisis to his own need for a compliant, desperate wife. He realized instantly that he could use my massive debt to force me into the marriage contract, and he decided to demonstrate his immense financial power immediately to trap me completely.
"Leon, please write a certified bank check to cover the exact amount these gentlemen are demanding from Miss Summers, and ensure the transaction clears their specific financial institution immediately," Mason instructed his assistant in a very calm, authoritative tone that commanded absolute obedience.
Leon stepped forward and asked the tall man for the exact name of his financial organization. Leon opened his grey suit jacket and extracted a sleek leather checkbook from his interior pocket. He used a silver pen to meticulously fill out the necessary information on the paper slip, and he handed the official document to the tall loan shark without showing any facial emotion. The aggressive man inspected the certified check carefully, and he nodded his head to confirm the financial validity of the payment before he signaled his partner to leave the premises.
The two dangerous men walked out of the front door without speaking another word, and the heavy silence returned to the damaged dining room. I exhaled a massive breath of relief because Carl and his restaurant were finally safe from physical destruction, but I also felt incredibly suspicious regarding Mason's sudden display of extreme financial generosity.
Mason completely ignored my confused expression, and he walked slowly across the linoleum floor until he reached the exact corner booth where his father had collapsed hours earlier. He sat down on the red vinyl seat and placed his expensive leather briefcase directly onto the laminated table. He clicked the metal locks open and pulled a thick stack of legal documents out of the dark interior before he looked up at my face.
I walked over to the booth and stood firmly in front of him.
"Do not expect me to thank you for paying those men, because I know you want something from me in return."
Mason picked up the legal document and slid it slowly across the smooth table until the paper touched my fingertips.
"I just purchased your parents' debt, Freya. You owe me the money now, and you are going to sign this marriage contract to pay me back, or I will let those men return and destroy this diner with Carl inside it."