"You can't just strand people here!"
"I'm not stranding you. I kindly offered you transportation. My driver will collect you at seven this evening."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you'll remain at your house, without transportation, while your debt continues to accrue interest at twenty percent."
She's trapped and she knows it. The only question is whether she'll admit it or continue pretending this is a negotiation between equals.
"Where are we meeting?"
"My home. We'll have dinner while we discuss your options."
"Your home? Alone?"
"I prefer to conduct sensitive business in private settings."
"This isn't business, this is criminal extortion!"
"Signorina Sullivan." I let my voice drop into a register that's carried more threat than most people hear in their lifetimes. "I suggest you reconsider your choice of words."
The silence that follows tells me she's finally beginning to understand who she's dealing with.
"Seven o'clock," she says finally with a long sigh.
"Excellent. Dress appropriately for dinner."
I hang up before she can ask what "appropriately" means or voice any more objections.
Phase one is complete. She now understands the scope of her problem and the limited nature of her options. The car situation ensures she can't simply flee in panic, and the dinner invitation establishes that this will be conducted on my terms, in my territory.
What I didn't expect was how much I enjoyed the conversation.
Most people, when faced with impossible debt and limited options, become predictable very quickly. They beg, they threaten, they try to bargain with emotions or promises they can't keep. Madison Sullivan tried to negotiate like she was refinancing a used car.
Two hundred euros a month. As if this were a student loan instead of a life-altering obligation to someone who doesn't operate by conventional rules.
Her naivety should be annoying. Instead, I find it almost... refreshing.
I call Emilio to confirm the evening arrangements.
"Car ready for pickup at seven," he reports. "Antonio’s handling the driving. You want me there for backup?"
"That won't be necessary. This is a dinner conversation, not an interrogation."
"Boss, you sure about this approach? Seems like a lot of trouble for fifty thousand euros."
Emilio's not wrong. I could have the debt collected in a dozen different ways, most of them faster and all of them more direct. But there's something about Madison Sullivan that makes me want to see how far her optimism can stretch before it breaks.
"Sometimes the indirect approach yields better results," I tell him.
What I don't tell him is that I'm curious about the woman who laughed with pure joy while sitting in a house that should have sent any reasonable person running back to America.
The afternoon passes quickly while I handle other business, shipment schedules, territory disputes, the kind ofproblems that require my personal attention. But I find myself checking the clock more often than usual, anticipating seven o'clock in a way that has nothing to do with debt collection.
At six-thirty, I dress for dinner. Not the intimidation suit from this morning, but something more subtle. Expensive enough to reinforce the power dynamic, but not so formal that she'll feel like she's walking into an execution.
By seven o'clock, I'm ready to discover just how Madison Sullivan handles impossible situations.
