Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 359

“Got a good look, did you?” The man in the jacket snatched the document back

aggressively.

“I did,” Leanne replied firmly. “This house was left to me by my parents, it was never Carl’s. His name isn’t on the deed, so your mortgage agreement with him isn’t worth the paper it’s written on.”

The man’s face, rough and pocked, was the very picture of a brute. “It’s invalid just because you say so? Well, we lent the money, and now Carl’s skipped town leaving debts behind. Since the house is your’s, it looks like you’ll have to pay up!”

“I have no legal obligation to cover for him,” Leanne countered coolly. “You should really be going after him to settle his debts.”

As she moved to close the door, the man slammed his hand against it, blocking it.

“Who said you could close this door?”

Leanne stepped back, creating some space between them, and warned, “Back off, or I’ll call the cops.”

These guys were seasoned at this kind of thing, dealing with private lending disputes casually, well aware that as long as they didn’t overstep the mark, the police wouldn’t bother.

neighbors find your family doesn’t pay their debts. That’ll show

Leanne pulled out her

in annoyance. Grinding his t said, “Fine, it’s late anyway. We’ll be back tomorrow. But don’t think about running; know where you work. If you don’t settle his debts,

his head, he signaled to his cohorts, and

door, her brow furrowed with worry that didn’t

advantage of her orphan status, usurping her parents’ house and squandering their legacy. Now, these thugs expected her

t how lly

loan sharks wouldn’t let up easily. If they couldn’t find Carl, they’d

her contacts to a number she hadn’t dialed in ages. After her aunt Violet moved away, she’d lost

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Chapter 359

through the phone, surprised and warm, “Leanne?”

replied, her tone cool but direct. “We need to meet tomorrow.”

Thistlewick Alley in the Stonebridge Ashton District, a forgotten corner left behind by the rush of economic progress. The alley was a maze of narrow streets with

unidentifiable puddles at the building’s base and dark, unwelcoming stairwells.

the fifth floor, it felt like every step was rattling the wafer-thin walls, noise from the