Chapter 3 - An Unpaid DebtRowan took a slow breath, his posture remaining upright despite his humility. “Life happened. My father got sick a few years back—cancer treatments aren’t cheap. Then my wife left when Bram was two. A month ago, the logistics company I maintained went under. I’m not looking for charity, Maris. I just need a job to keep a roof over my son’s head.”
“Bram?” Maris repeated, her eyes softening instantly. “You have a son?”
“He’s eight,” Rowan said, a faint glint of pride touching his tired eyes. “Smart kid. Loves books about whales.”
Maris stared at him, her mind racing. Eighteen years ago, this man had been her guardian angel when the rest of the world turned its back on her. He had expected nothing in return. He hadn't even asked for her phone number. He had simply helped a stranger in the dark because it was the right thing to do.
She picked up his application form and tore it neatly in half, dropping the pieces into her wastebasket.
Rowan’s heart sank. “Maris—”
“You are not sweeping floors in my building, Rowan Elias Hail,” Maris declared firmly, her voice regaining its commanding CEO edge. “Effective immediately, you are being appointed as the Senior Facilities Director for Argent Holdings’ coastal properties.”
Rowan blinked, stunned. “Senior Facilities Director? Maris, I don't have a corporate management degree—”
“You have fifteen years of hands-on experience, you know mechanical systems better than the engineers who design them, and most importantly, you are the only person in this city whose integrity I would trust with my life,” Maris stated, stepping directly into his space. Her dark eyes locked onto his with unshakeable resolve. “The salary is one hundred and eighty thousand dollars a year, with full health coverage for you and Bram, starting today.”
Rowan stood frozen. One hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Full medical coverage. In a single sentence, every terrifying financial nightmare that had kept him awake at 3:00 AM vanished into thin air.
“Maris... I can’t accept that,” Rowan said quietly, his pride fighting against his desperation. “That looks like charity.”
“It’s not charity, Rowan,” Maris said softly, reaching out and gently touching his sleeve. Her fingers were warm. “It’s interest on an eighteen-year-old loan. You saved my life when I was nothing. Let me stand by you now.”
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Rowan looked into her eyes, seeing not the ruthless billionaire titan the media portrayed, but the grateful girl from Route 1. He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
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