Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back (Leanne Castillo) novel Chapter 358

Leanne watched as a flash of annoyance crossed Jennifer's face, then tossed the face mask to Curtis, whispering, "Don't teach him bad habits."

Jennifer had never imagined her first grandchild would be a stray cat.

Taking a sip of her tea to calm her nerves, she asked Leanne, "Why don't you move back to Crystal Cove Villas? The garden there is huge, the cat could roam freely, much better than being cooped up in an apartment."

Leanne’s feelings about the villa at Crystal Cove Villas were complex and hard to define. It was both her and Curtis' marital home and a prison that had trapped her for over two years.

She glanced at Curtis, who had been through a lot in the past six months and seemed more open about expressing his true feelings now.

"I don’t like it there," she said simply.

Curtis' expression was hidden behind the mask, his posture lazy against the couch, his emotions unreadable.

Jennifer paused for a moment, then tactfully changed the subject. She inquired about their recent lives and showed concern, but didn’t stay long before leaving.

Leanne walked them to the door, intending to accompany them downstairs, but Jennifer declined, "It's getting late, you should get some rest."

Stopping at the elevator, Leanne said, "Take care on your way."

Perhaps because Jennifer was there, Curtis wasn’t as clingy today, just brushing her cheek with his knuckles before saying, "I’m off."

Back inside, Leanne refilled the cat's bowl. The cat, as always, was affectionate, rubbing against her legs and climbing on her knees to cuddle.

Petting the cat's head, Leanne spoke to it, "Jennifer was acting a bit odd today, wasn’t she?"

The cat meowed in response.

Leanne agreed, "You noticed it too, right?"

After giving the cat a good brushing and throwing around a kitty toy, she heard a loud knock which startled the cat, sending it running into the bedroom.

"Uplink Credit Solutions." The man in the jacket produced a business card, unlike Curtis' fancy embossed cards, this one was plain and looked like it was printed at a street-side shop.

"Are all the paperwork and loan agreements complete?"

"Of course, we’re a legitimate business," he snapped, signaling a bespectacled young man behind him to show Leanne the contract. The photocopied contract bore Carl’s signature.

Leanne skimmed through the document.

A mortgage loan without the homeowner's signature was invalid, no reputable bank would lend money to Carl under these circumstances. It must be some unregulated private lending platform, desperate for profit at any cost, engaging in shady transactions.

The money Carl had borrowed two years ago came with an annual interest rate of 64%, meaning for every hundred borrowed, sixty-four was due in interest. The principal was merely a million, but with compounded interest, it had ballooned to three million.

In short, only a fool would take out such a predatory loan.

Carl was like a ticking time bomb. When he and Violet moved out, unexpectedly, without any fuss, it turned out he had left a trap for her.