Eric stood motionless before the leader of the loan sharks. The tension was so dense it seemed to vibrate in the air. The men in black — more than twenty — silently occupied every corner of the market. They didn't speak. Didn't breathe loudly. They only watched, ready.
The leader took a small step, as if planning to grab Eric and use him as a shield.
Eric raised his hand firmly.
"Don't even think about using me as a hostage," he said calmly. "They have orders to shoot anyone who interferes with this negotiation."
The man froze.
Even Elena, who was behind the counter, covered her mouth with both hands. Her legs trembled. She counted at least twenty-three armed men — probably more hidden.
"Who is this maniac…?" she thought, her stomach twisting.
The leader finally spoke:
"Who do you work for?"
Eric didn't answer. He simply stared at him with a silence more threatening than any threat. Then he pulled a paper from his pocket and held it out.
"What's this?" the loan shark asked, suspicious.
"A formal declaration stating that my fiancée's debt has been paid."
The leader laughed, surprised. "And you think that has any legal value?"
"No," Eric replied firmly. "It has… strategic value. What I plan to do with this document is none of your business."
That was when the loan shark understood.
It was evidence. If anything happened to Eric or Elena, the document would prove the group had motive and a history of involvement.
He looked around, confirming the absurd disadvantage. None of his men stood a chance against so many armed, trained professionals.
"A piece of advice," Eric continued. "Accept the payment and let my fiancée live her life."
The leader clenched his teeth. He clearly remembered the proposal he had received from certain anonymous businessmen — high payment for Elena's "company." The plan had been simple: drain her until she broke. Then force her into compliance.
Everything had been going perfectly… until Eric showed up with endless gold.
Now, however, the situation was completely different.
This wasn't a game of threats.
It was an execution waiting to happen.
"And if I refuse?" the loan shark asked, still trying to salvage some power.
Eric's expression shifted — not to anger or fear.
To sadness.
Elena saw it, and something tightened inside her.
But before the mafioso could interpret that as weakness, Eric finished:
"If you refuse, there will be no reason to let you walk out of this store alive. And they"—Eric pointed at the men in black—"will keep the gold you're holding as a bonus for their service."
The meaning was clear:
Refusing meant death.
Eric stepped closer.
"All I want is a quiet life," he said. "And I believe that's what you want too. It's not worth risking everything for so little."
He pointed to the bag of gold in the loan shark's hand — the same bag Eric had given before the man tried to increase the debt.
The man inhaled deeply.
Closed his eyes.
Struggled internally against his pride.
Then he opened them again.
"Do you accept my proposal?" Eric asked.
The leader looked around once more. Eric's men remained still, like living shadows. There was no escape. No advantage. No breath of possibility.
Finally, he took the paper, and he signed it.
No words.
No mockery.
He just signed.
Then he walked toward the door. The other five followed, heads lowered, defeated.
When the last of them left, Eric let out a breath so deep he nearly collapsed.
His body finally allowed itself to feel the tension he had held back.
Elena ran to him.
"What is this?" she asked, voice trembling. "Who are these men?!"
Eric looked at the masked mercenaries, then at her.
And for the first time since the negotiation began, he allowed the real weight of his actions to show.