CHAPTER 6 – THE DEBT THAT NEVER BELONGED TO HIM
CHAPTER 6 – THE DEBT THAT NEVER BELONGED TO HIM
The library fell silent.
Joon stared at the faded newspaper clipping lying on the mahogany table.
His father.
Victor Park.
Standing in the background of a charity gala twenty years earlier.
Richard Hawthorne in the foreground, smiling confidently beside his wife and teenage son.
It looked like an ordinary society photograph.
Until Joon noticed the date.
October 18.
Three days before Daniel Hawthorne had been killed.
Marcus broke the silence.
"We verified the newspaper archive."
Joon didn't look up.
"And?"
"The photo is authentic."
"The note?"
"Handwritten recently."
Joon slowly closed the file.
"So Richard kept this for twenty years."
Marcus nodded.
"He never forgot."
Mrs. Cho entered quietly after hearing the raised voices from the hallway.
She immediately sensed the tension.
"What happened?"
Joon slid the photograph toward her.
She recognized Richard Hawthorne instantly.
"He was one of your father's biggest rivals."
Marcus corrected her.
"Not exactly."
Mrs. Cho frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"He wasn't in the criminal world."
"He was one of Chicago's most influential developers."
Marcus tapped the old newspaper clipping.
"His son was caught in the middle of a shooting between two gangs connected to Victor Park's organization."
Mrs. Cho closed her eyes.
"Oh..."
Joon spoke softly.
"My father didn't order it."
"No."
"He wasn't even there."
"No."
"But Richard doesn't care."
Marcus shook his head.
"Grief rarely listens to facts."
Joon wheeled himself toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Snow had stopped.
Chicago glittered beneath the winter sun.
"So all these years..."
Marcus finished the sentence.
"He wasn't waiting for Victor Park."
"He was waiting for you."
Across town, Marissa was finishing her afternoon shift.
She hummed quietly while emptying trash bins on the thirty-second floor.
For the first time in months, work felt lighter.
She couldn't explain why.
Perhaps because she'd seen genuine gratitude in someone's eyes.
Perhaps because Caleb hadn't stopped talking about "Mr. Birthday" since yesterday.
She smiled to herself.
"Funny little world."
Behind her, another cleaner approached.
"You hear?"
"Hear what?"
"They're saying the owner came into the building before sunrise."
Marissa looked up.
"Really?"
"Whole security team's on edge."
"Why?"
The woman shrugged.
"No idea."
Marissa returned to work.
She never imagined the extra security was there because of her.
That evening, Caleb burst through the apartment door carrying a folded sheet of paper.
"Mom!"
"What happened?"
"I got picked!"
"For what?"
"The Winter Heroes project!"
Marissa hung up her coat.
"Tell me."
"Everyone has to interview someone they think is a hero."
She smiled.
"That's wonderful."
"I picked Mr. Joon."
She froze.
"You... what?"
"He needs friends."
"Caleb..."
"The teacher said heroes help people."
"He helps hospitals."
"He helps schools."
"He smiled after the cupcake."
"So he's a hero."
Marissa knelt beside him.
"Honey..."
"We don't even know if we'll ever see him again."
Caleb looked genuinely confused.
"Why wouldn't we?"
She didn't have an answer.
Meanwhile...
Marcus Reed was assembling every available piece of intelligence on Richard Hawthorne.
Maps.
Financial records.
Corporate acquisitions.
Travel history.
Phone logs.
One pattern immediately stood out.
Richard hadn't contacted Joon.
Not once.
For twenty years.
Then suddenly...
Three months ago...
Everything changed.
Marcus circled a date.
"The bombing anniversary."
Joon looked over.
"The third anniversary."
Marcus nodded.
"He became active again immediately afterward."
"What happened three months ago?"
Marcus placed another document on the desk.
"The FBI officially closed the investigation."
Joon understood immediately.
"No new suspects."
"No new arrests."
"No justice."
Marcus leaned back.
"If Richard believed the bombing was punishment enough..."
"He doesn't anymore."
Late that night...
Richard Hawthorne sat alone in his mansion.
A crystal glass of untouched whiskey rested beside the fireplace.
He opened an old wooden box.
Inside were photographs of Daniel.
A Little League uniform.
A graduation ceremony.
A fishing trip.
A birthday party.
Richard picked up one picture of his son laughing beside a chocolate cake.
"You should have turned thirty-nine this year."
His voice cracked for the first time in decades.
"They buried you at nineteen."
He closed his eyes.
"I'm tired, Danny."
"So tired."
A tear slid silently down his cheek.
"But I promised..."
"I promised someone would answer."
His assistant entered cautiously.
"Sir?"
Richard quickly wiped his face.
"What is it?"
"The surveillance teams report that Mr. Park has assigned protection around the woman and child."
Richard nodded.
"As expected."
"What are your orders?"
He looked once more at Daniel's photograph.
Then quietly said,
"Cancel every operation."
The assistant blinked.
"Sir?"
"They're innocent."
Relief spread across the younger man's face.
"So we're done?"
Richard stood slowly.
"No."
He walked toward the window.
"We stop chasing the woman."
"Then what?"
Richard's reflection stared back at him in the glass.
"We confront Joon Park directly."
The next morning...
Park Meridian headquarters buzzed with unusual activity.
Executives whispered in hallways.
Security checkpoints doubled.
An emergency board meeting had been called.
Mrs. Cho hurried into Joon's office.
"You need to see this."
She handed him a thick cream-colored envelope.
No postage.
No return address.
It had been hand-delivered.
Marcus immediately scanned it for explosives before passing it over.
Inside was a single invitation.
MR. JOON PARK
Twenty years ago, our fathers destroyed countless lives.
One of those lives was my son's.
It is time we discussed the debt neither of us escaped.
Tomorrow. 7:00 p.m.
Hawthorne Conservatory.
Come alone.
Or spend the rest of your life wondering whether peace was ever possible.
— Richard Hawthorne
Marcus immediately shook his head.
"It's a trap."
Mrs. Cho agreed.
"You cannot go."
Joon continued reading the letter.
His expression remained unreadable.
Finally, he folded it carefully.
"No."
Marcus frowned.
"No?"
"It isn't a trap."
"How can you know?"
Joon looked toward the photograph of his mother that stood on the bookshelf.
"Because if Richard wanted me dead..."
"...he's had twenty years to do it."
The room became silent.
Marcus still wasn't convinced.
"What if you're wrong?"
Joon answered quietly,
"Then I'll finally pay for a debt I never created."
At that exact moment, across the city, Marissa answered a knock on her apartment door.
Standing outside was a sharply dressed courier holding a small white envelope.
"It's for Ms. Marissa Cole."
She accepted it, confused.
Inside was a handwritten note.
Thank you for reminding me that kindness still exists.
Would you and Caleb do me the honor of joining me for dinner tomorrow evening?
No ballroom. No staff. Just three people... and pancakes for dessert.
— Joon
Marissa smiled without realizing that the dinner invitation and Richard Hawthorne's meeting were scheduled for the exact same night.
Neither she nor Joon knew that by the following evening...
May you like
One decision would change all of their lives forever.
End of Chapter 6
