Hour of reckoning

We had been married for 5 years. We were both 28 years old. My husband Seryozha had his own business; he dealt in sports goods and opened his own gym in another city. I worked as an administrator in a large shopping mall. Through our joint efforts, we managed to save up for a two-room apartment in the center of our small town and a car. Of course, it wasn't without loans and high-interest debts. My job was in our town. Sergey's office was here too, but he was constantly traveling around the region. Our earnings were barely enough to cover all the debts. Sergey tried his best, constantly disappearing at work. I was often home alone, but I understood that we needed

to endure this difficult time. We'll pay off the debts and everything will get back on track. We planned to have children right after this rough patch; now was clearly not the time for them.

One day Sergey came home from the office and said he needed to go away on business for a few days. I really didn't like this; it seemed strange. He had never disappeared for several days before. But there was nothing to be done. I helped him pack some clothes for the trip and kissed him goodbye, wishing him luck. My workdays continued to pass in my separate office at the mall. Every day the same routine with invoices and contracts. And so day after day. One day, two, three... A week. A week passed, and there was no sign of my husband. Only one call the day after he left and a request not to worry about anything.

A strange request. It's not like he went off to war. Should I worry? I just miss him, and he doesn't even call. I call him myself, his phone is unavailable. That's when I started to worry. He's a responsible man, he never disappeared like this and without reporting in. Just wait until I see him, he'll get it for the first of the month! The second week began, and I was completely distracted at work from worry and nerves. All sorts of bad thoughts kept popping into my head. What if something happened to him? What if he got into trouble? But how can I help him, at least find him? It's useless to do anything on my end. After another two days, my phone rang from an unknown number. On the other end of the line, I recognized my husband's voice.

— Darling, forgive me, but I don't have time to talk long.

— What happened? Where have you disappeared to? I'm terribly worried here.

— I'll sort out some things here and come home. Don't worry about me — his voice was hurried.

He hung up, and I didn't understand anything. What kind of things could take so long? A mistress? Come on. We're doing fine. But what if? Then he'll have a lot of explaining to do when he gets back. I calmed down a bit after his call, reassured that he was alive and well, and continued with my usual work tasks. Two more days later, that number started calling my phone again. It's probably Seryozha calling again. But no. I heard a completely unfamiliar male voice.

— Olga, we need to meet with you and talk — the man's voice was serious and unhurried.

— Excuse me, who are you?

— I'll explain everything in person when we meet.

— Is something wrong with Sergey? — I got seriously worried.

— He's fine... For now. But that's for later.

— Tomorrow at eight in the evening, I'll be waiting for you in the park on Parkovaya — he quickly and sternly demanded and hung up.

The waiting time for the meeting with the unknown man for an unknown reason was agonizing and nerve-wracking. I didn't sleep all night, thinking about possible problems. The workday was also difficult; my head refused to think about work matters. After work ended at five, I went home. I took a shower, changed into dark jeans and a black blouse with white polka dots with black patent leather shoes. I quickly tied my hair into a ponytail and ran out to catch a taxi. Exactly at eight, I was at the spot and looked around for any man who might be there, but I didn't see anyone. I sat on a bench and began to wait with unconcealed anxiety. Suddenly I heard a male voice behind me.

— You came. That's good. So you care about your husband's fate.

I got scared and quickly jumped up from the bench, turning to the man, or rather it was a guy. He was a tall brunette, quite attractive, no more than thirty years old.

— So something did happen. Where is my husband?

— He's in another city sorting out a money issue.

— What money? What's going on? — I was already shouting at him.

— Quiet, quiet, Olga. No need to shout. You don't want even bigger problems.

— What problems? What money are you talking about? — I had already quieted down.

— Your husband owes my boss money.

— For what?

— He borrowed it once and hasn't paid anything back for a year.

— How much?

— 300 thousand.

— Why did he borrow it? This is the first I'm hearing of this.

— What did he use to open his sports goods store and gym? It's a joint business with my boss, from which he gets a share of the revenue.

— My husband took loans from a bank.

— And that bank turned out to be my boss.

— So he can pay off the debt from his share.

— He gave up part of his business to the boss a long time ago, but still owes more.

— My God, did he borrow more than 300 thousand? I don't understand anything. But I don't know anything about this. He's always traveling for work, doing his thing.

— He hasn't had his own business for about six months now. Your husband lied to you.

— I was shocked by the news and slowly sat back down on the bench, trying to process the information in my head, which was already struggling to think.

— So what now? Where is my husband now?

— Under the strict supervision of the boss.

— Who the hell is your boss?! — I shouted again.

— A very serious, dangerous man. I wouldn't advise joking with him.

— Really? But what now? When will my husband come home?

— Exactly when the boss gets the rest of his debt from him.

— But how to do that? We put all our money into his business and our house. We have debts to the bank. We simply don't have that kind of money.

— A hardly concerning factor. The money is needed, and the sooner, the better for both of you.

— If we can't pay, what then?

— Better not to let that happen. Believe me.

He continued to speak calmly and seriously, standing opposite me in a strict black suit, and I couldn't believe my ears.

— Now your fate is in your hands, Olga, since your husband couldn't solve the problem on his own in a year. I hope I explained everything clearly? — he said, folding his arms across his chest.

I just nodded my head, and he left.

Now my headache became finding that damn money. Where to find such an amount when we can barely make ends meet? Well, I'll sell the car, fine. Maximum 150 for it. Where to get another 150? They won't give me a loan, there's already a debt hanging. There's simply no one to borrow from, and nothing to secure it with. In the end, I sold the car only after 5 days for the amount I expected. I had 2 more days. I also had to sell some small things from the apartment and got another 50 thousand. I still needed to get another 100 thousand. That was already a problem, because exactly a week had passed.

I was at work in my office calling all my acquaintances to borrow at least something. Only a friend responded, who could only lend 10 thousand rubles, as she was broke herself. I got seriously scared when that same guy I met in the park walked into my office. I told him I had only managed to collect 210 thousand rubles, that I couldn't get more. The guy sighed and started calling on the phone. He was talking to his boss, apparently, for a very long time and incomprehensibly to me. Then he put his phone in the inner pocket of his jacket and looked at me mysteriously.

— What? Is everything okay? Can we work something out? Will you let my husband go?

— I have good news. We'll let your husband go.

— Phew… Good. When?

— When the boss gets the amount you managed to collect.

I started hastily rummaging in my purse, took out the money, and handed it to him.

— Uh… No, no. You must hand the money to the boss personally.

— But… Why?

— Those are the conditions. Come with me to the car, I'll take you to him.

— But… But… How?

— Don't worry. Your husband is fine. We need to hurry. The boss is waiting for us.

— But I'm at work.

— It's in your best interest, Olga.

There was a pause. He looked at me with an expectant, steady gaze, and his hands were folded on his chest.

— So what, Olga? In a hurry? — he looked at the watch on his wrist.

I sighed, took my purse, and followed him, warning everyone at work that I was leaving. Near my mall stood an expensive black tinted Mercedes. The guy opened the back door for me and closed it behind me, then sat in the front seat. A man around forty was driving. He was their boss's driver. The car started moving, and we drove for quite a long time. The area was unfamiliar to me. What awaits me there? What should I say and how should I behave? Is everything really okay with Seryozha? Who is this boss of theirs? The guy occasionally glanced at me. The car drove into some courtyard with various flowers and shrubs. Then it stopped near a large, beautiful mansion.

— Here we are — he said.

He similarly opened the door for me and closed it behind me when I got out of the car. I started looking around, having no idea where we were. The driver stayed in the car, and the guy called me to follow him. I took a deep breath of air and hesitantly followed him, my blue patent leather heels clicking. I, as if on purpose, had decided to dress up for work today in a pale blue dress above the knee with a deep neckline and short sleeves. If only I had known… We walked along a long hall and went up a carved wooden staircase. The house was rich and beautiful. The floor was made of expensive patterned laminate, the walls covered with expensive carved wooden siding. Paintings and flowers everywhere. The furniture was rich and beautiful. On the second floor, we continued walking down the corridor until we reached the desired wooden door. The guy knocked on the door and opened it.

— Boss, I brought her — he pushed me through the door.

We ended up in his boss's office, which was also beautiful and rich. Behind the desk, I saw a young man around thirty-five. I was insanely curious to know who I was dealing with and began to examine him carefully. What to say? A rather handsome man dressed in an expensive dark blue suit and smelling of expensive perfume. On his hands was a large ring, and around his neck a gold chain. He got up from the desk and revealed his full tall height and his strong, muscular body. He came up to me and walked around me. The guy was standing by the door, leaning against it.

— Hello. Where is my husband? — I asked hesitantly.

— Good afternoon, Olga. Your husband is fine. He'll be going home now.

— Where exactly is he?

The man led me to the window. I saw some other guy putting my husband into the same Mercedes.

— I told you everything was fine.

— Good. I brought the money. Though I could only collect 210 thousand. I can't find another 90.

— Don't worry. We can work something out. It's not such a large amount.

— Really? That's good. Can you give me more time?

— Forget about the money. I said, it's not such a large amount.

He offered me to sit in a dark brown leather chair next to his desk, while his eyes roamed over my body. I felt awkward and adjusted the hem of my dress on my legs.

— Well, can I go?

— So soon? We can have a drink for a good outcome. Aren't you glad that your husband is okay?

— Glad, of course. But I want to see him. I should go.

— My guys will take you, but later.

I started to get seriously nervous. The guy who put my husband in the car came into the office and reported to the boss. He was also handsome and well-built. Apparently, their boss recruited men for his gang who were like himself… Handsome, tall, and serious.

— All set, boss, we delivered him home — then he noticed me — Oh, and who's this?

— This is his wife, Lyosha. A beauty, right?

— Undoubtedly — Lyosha flashed a glance at me.

— I'd like to attend to my own business, boss — the guy by the door, who accompanied me, spoke up.

— No way, Roma. You're needed here — the man sternly cut off his intentions.

— I understand. What do you need from me, Vladimir Anatolyevich? — Roma slumped.

— I asked you not to call me by my patronymic! — he was indignant.

— It completely slipped my mind. Sorry, boss — the guy lowered his head.

— Olga, you can just call me by my name… Just Vova. How about that?

— No, thank you. That's unnecessary. I hope my visit, which I hope is short, will end our connection.

— Wow! You're a girl with character. I like it.

I drilled him with my gaze, waiting for his order to his guys to take me home. But that didn't happen. There was an awkward silence. Roma and Lyosha exchanged glances and waited for the boss's instructions. Their boss began to strangely examine my entire figure from head to toe. Apparently, he liked me insanely. I began to notice that his eyes were fixed on my legs, and then on the cleavage of my chest, which was clearly visible from my dress. I felt uncomfortable under his gaze, which was becoming more predatory, and I got up from the chair.

— Maybe I should go after all?

— Don't forget, the remainder of the debt is still hanging over you. Don't you want to settle with me completely?

— If it will have unfavorable consequences, then I would like to pay off the debts down to the last kopeck. But I need time, I said.

— I don't need money from you. I needed it from your husband. But since you're in a hurry to help him, so be it.

— So what do you need from me, if not money?! — I raised my voice from