Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back (Leanne Castillo) novel 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 yours, 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.

Undeterred, the man taunted, "Go ahead and call them. Let all your neighbors find out how your family doesn’t pay their debts. That’ll show everyone what kind of people you really are!"

Without hesitation, Leanne pulled out her phone and dialed 911.

The man’s confidence wavered as his eyelid twitched in annoyance. Grinding his teeth, he said, "Fine, it’s late anyway. We’ll be back tomorrow. But don’t think about running; we know where you work. If you don’t settle his debts, we’ll be on your back!"

With a jerk of his head, he signaled to his cohorts, and they left.

Leanne closed the door, her brow furrowed with worry that didn’t ease.

Carl had taken advantage of her orphan status, usurping her parents' house and squandering their legacy. Now, these thugs expected her to cough up three million to cover his lazy hide? What a joke!

Entering Violet's apartment through an unlocked security door, Leanne was hit by a pungent smell of liniment. Despite the open windows, the stale air clung stubbornly to the modest space.

Violet, wiping down a TV stand, hurried over with a smile. "Leanne, you made it."

She ushered Leanne in, bustling about to serve drinks and wash some freshly bought fruit, the scent of liniment following her.

Noticing Violet’s careful movements, Leanne asked, "Your back seems really bad. Have you seen a doctor?"

"Just the usual strain. They told me to avoid heavy lifting and recommended physical therapy," Violet replied with a tinge of bitterness. "But who has money for that?"

Leanne cut to the chase, "Carl used my mom and dad’s house for a loan. Did you know about that?"

"What? He mortgaged the house? I knew he took out loans but had no idea he’d…" Violet’s face was a mix of shock and sincerity, and Leanne found no deception there.