Chapter 5 - The Confrontation in Oak Park
The storm was reaching its peak by the time our three-car armored convoy screeched to a halt in front of my mother’s modest suburban home in Oak Park.
The small, yellow-brick house where I had grown up was surrounded by four large, black SUVs. Five men in heavy dark coats stood on the front lawn, while a slick man in a tailored navy suit stood on the front porch, hammering his fist against the wooden door.
“Mrs. Lin! Open this door immediately!” the man on the porch shouted. “By order of the Cook County Sheriff’s office and Vance Financial, this property is subject to immediate asset liquidation!”
My mother’s face appeared briefly behind the living room curtain, pale and terrified.
Inside our SUV, Marcus racked the slide of his sidearm. “Give the word, boss. We take them out.”
“No firearms unless fired upon,” Ronan instructed calmly, stepping out of the vehicle into the torrential rain. “I want Vance’s lawyer alive so he can carry a message back to his master.”
I scrambled out of the car behind Ronan, ignoring the rain soaking my hair and clothes.
The men on the lawn immediately turned, their hands moving inside their heavy coats as they saw Ronan Blackwood walking toward them. But when two dozen of Ronan’s private tactical security forces poured out of the surrounding SUVs with submachine guns trained on them, the men instantly froze, raising their hands in the air.
“What the hell is this?” the lawyer on the porch stuttered, backing away as Ronan stepped onto the steps.
“You’re standing on private property, counselor,” Ronan said, his voice easily carrying over the sound of the thunder.
“I have a court order!” the lawyer squeaked, waving a piece of paper. “Arthur Lin defaulted on a three-million-dollar private loan from Vance Holdings! We are legally seizing this physical real estate!”
Ronan didn't even look at the paper. He reached out, grabbed the lawyer by his expensive silk tie, and yanked him forward until their faces were inches apart.
“Arthur Lin’s debts were fully settled two months ago,” Ronan said, his tone dripping with venom. “I know, because I bought the debt notes myself through a third-party trust.”
I stopped dead in my tracks on the walkway, staring at Ronan’s back in absolute disbelief.
He bought my father’s debt notes two months ago?
The lawyer was trembling wildly. “Mr. Blackwood... this is Vance business... you don't want to start a war with Julian over a middle-class house!”
“Tell Julian the war started the second he put a whip in Vivien Hale’s hand,” Ronan growled. He threw the lawyer down the wooden steps, sending him tumbling into the muddy grass. “Get off this property. If I see any of Vance’s men within five miles of this woman’s family again, I won't call the police. I’ll call the coroner.”
The lawyer scrambled to his feet, screaming at his men to retreat. Within thirty seconds, Vance’s SUVs were tearing down the quiet suburban street, leaving behind tire marks in the mud.
I ran up the steps, and the front door opened immediately. My mother burst out, bursting into tears as she wrapped her arms around me.
“Ivy! Oh, my baby! What is happening?” she sobbed, holding me tightly. “Who are these men?”
“It’s okay, Mom. It’s over,” I soothed her, stroking her wet hair. I looked up over her shoulder at Ronan, who was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, rain dripping from his jaw, watching us silently.
After calming my mother down and placing two of Ronan’s guards inside her home for round-the-clock protection, I walked back down to the driveway where Ronan was waiting beside the SUV.
“You bought my family’s debt?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the patter of the rain. “Two months ago? Why?”
Ronan looked at me, his eyes dark and intensely honest in the dim streetlights.
“Because I’ve been watching you for two months, Ivy,” he admitted quietly. “I saw you work eighteen hours a day. I saw you send every dollar of your salary to a collection agency in Delaware. I realized who your father was, and I realized you were drowning trying to fix a mess you didn't create.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you’re proud,” Ronan said, stepping closer to me, wiping a raindrop from my forehead with his thumb. “If I handed you money, you would have rejected it. You would have walked away from the manor. I needed a reason to keep you close until I could figure out how to give you back your life.”
My breath hitched. The cold rain seemed to vanish, replaced by the intense heat radiating between the two of us.
“Ronan...”
“We need to end Vance tonight,” Ronan interrupted smoothly, though his thumb lingered against my jaw. “He’s desperate now. He knows I have his financial ledgers, and he knows his lawyer failed. Tonight at midnight, his illegal cargo ship docks at Port 44. He’ll be there personally to supervise the rush transfer.”
“You’re going to Port 44?” I asked, panic gripping my chest. “It’s a trap!”
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“It is a trap,” Ronan agreed, a sharp, dangerous smile touching the corners of his lips. “Except he thinks he’s the hunter. He doesn't know I’m bringing the entire weight of the Blackwood empire down on his head.”
He opened the SUV door for me. “Come on, Ivy. Let’s go finish this.”
