Revenge is sweetest with $2 billion in Bitcoin

Chapter seven

He placed the documents on the counter. The lender went through them one by one, comparing the names, the dates, and the descriptions of the pieces. He looked at Christopher again, still cautious.

“Alright. The papers match. But I still don’t do this kind of loan without the owner present most of the time.”

“I understand,” Christopher said. “I’m only asking for a short-term amount against them. Thirty days.”

The lender ran some numbers on a calculator, then looked up with a thin smile.

“Appraised value is about ninety thousand. Looking at the market right now, I can do twenty-eight thousand. Take it or leave it.”

Christopher didn’t move. “Twenty-eight is too low. The appraisal is clear. Even at fifty percent you’re still under.”

The lender shrugged. “That’s the offer. You don’t look like someone who has a lot of options.”

“I have the documents. The pieces are clean. Forty-five thousand is fair.”

The lender let out a short laugh. “Forty-five? You’re dreaming. Thirty. Final.”

Christopher stayed quiet for a few seconds, then spoke evenly. “Thirty-five and I walk. You keep the diamonds for thirty days. That’s still a strong profit for you if I default. If I don’t, you get your interest. Either way you win.”

The lender stared at him, tapping his pen against the desk. He clearly hadn’t expected the man in the worn jacket to push back.

“Forty,” the lender said at last.

“Forty-four,” Christopher replied. “That’s the number.”

Another long pause. The lender glanced at the jewelry again, then at the paperwork.

“Fine. $45,000. Thirty-day term. Interest is $4,400 You bring back forty-eight thousand four hundred in thirty days or the diamonds stay here. That work for you?”

“That’s fine.” The lender pulled out a thick envelope and began counting the bills onto the counter in neat stacks.

“Ten… twenty… thirty… forty… forty-four thousand,” he said, sliding the last stack forward. “Count it yourself if you want.”

Christopher picked up the stacks and counted them quickly. “It’s all here.”

“Sign here, here, and here,” the lender said, pointing at the contract. “Once you sign, the diamonds stay with me until you come back with the full $48,400.”

Christopher signed each line. The lender took the velvet box, locked it inside the safe behind the counter, and handed Christopher the receipt.

“Thirty days. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

Christopher put the cash away and left.

From there he drove straight to a used-car lot. A salesman in a short-sleeve shirt walked around the old Camry, checked the mileage, and opened the driver’s door.

“2009. High miles. Interior’s seen better days. I can do 4,000.”

Christopher didn’t argue. “Four thousand is fine.”

They filled out the title transfer on the hood of the car. The salesman counted the bills into Christopher’s hand.

Christopher signed the last paper, watched the man drive the Camry around the back of the lot, and put the money in his pocket. The old car was gone.

With the loan money and the car money together he had exactly forty-eight thousand. The twenty percent deposit.

The Lamborghini dealership was on the clean side of the city. The red Urus sat under bright lights in the middle of the showroom.

A well-dressed salesman walked up, took one look at Christopher’s clothes, and didn’t even try to hide his expression.

“You lost, buddy? The bus stop is outside.”

Christopher looked at him evenly. “I’d like to see the red Urus.”

The salesman laughed once, loud enough for the other staff to hear. “The Urus? That car costs more than you’ve probably earned in the last ten years. What are you going to do, pay with food stamps?”

Another salesman nearby joined in, grinning. “Maybe he’s the delivery guy. Did someone order a pizza?”

Christopher ignored them. “I want to buy it. I have forty-eight thousand for the deposit. The rest on finance.”

The first salesman stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Forty-eight thousand? That’s cute. Did you rob a convenience store on the way here? Or did your mommy give you her savings?”

The second one added, “Look at his shoes. Those things are older than my little sister. Boss is going to love this story.”

A third staff member walked past and muttered just loud enough, “Some people really don’t know their place.”

Christopher stood there and took it. He didn’t raise his voice.

‘If I didn’t need to keep the Bitcoin quiet until the cash-out is finished, this would be child’s play.’

He simply said, “I’ll be applying jointly with my wife. Her name is Mary Norton. Here are the documents.”

The salesmen were still laughing when a younger salesman who had been standing quietly near the back stepped forward. He looked nervous.

“I can take his application,” he said quickly. “I’ll run it myself.”

The first salesman raised an eyebrow. “You serious? You’re going to waste time on this guy?”

“I’ll handle it,” the younger one repeated, already gathering the papers. He lowered his voice so only Christopher could hear. “Follow me. If the manager finds out I’m pushing this, I could lose my job. But the numbers might work if your wife’s credit is decent.”

They went into a small side office. The younger salesman worked fast, running the joint credit check and preparing the forms while the others continued making comments outside. After a long wait, he looked up.

“It clears,” he said quietly. “Barely. Sixty-month contract. You’re primary, your wife is co-borrower. Both of you are on the hook for every payment. She’ll get the notices too. The forty-eight thousand goes down today. You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

They went through the papers. Christopher signed. Mary’s details were entered. The deposit was processed. When it was done, the younger salesman walked him out to the red Urus, keeping his voice low.

“Keys are in it. Don’t make me regret this.”

Christopher looked at him. “Thank you.”

The young salesman gave a short nod and stepped back before the others could notice how long he had spent with the customer.

Christopher got in, started the engine, and drove out of the dealership. The cabin was quiet except for the low sound of the motor. He parked a few streets away from the house and turned the engine off.

He knew exactly how this would end. For years Mary had been adding money every month into the joint family insurance and household account.

Those automatic contributions were still active. Once the car payment notices started arriving in her name, the money would come from the same place she had been feeding all this time.

Christopher had no plan to pay a single further installment. The deposit was the only money he would ever put in. Everything after that belonged to Mary. It was simple retribution.

She had lied to him for years. Now she would be the one carrying the weight of a two-hundred-forty-thousand-dollar car she never asked for.

He had no intention of cheating the young salesman who had risked his job to help him. The man had been decent. The first payment would clear cleanly from the existing joint account so the dealership stayed whole.

After that, every notice, every demand, and every collection call would land on Mary alone.

The finance papers and the payment schedule were already on their way to her email. She would see her name next to his on the contract. And from this point forward, the debt was hers.