Chapter 814

He had thought for a moment that Ivy had gone soft, that she was going to bail out the Windsors out of pity. Now he saw the true brilliance of her plan. The promissory note would ensure that Baillie was forever in her debt, forever under her control. And by forcing them to leave Neo Haven, she would ensure they could never bother her again.

It was, in essence, paying for peace of mind.

Baillie stared at Ivy, his face a whirlwind of emotions: shock, disbelief, anger. But then, his ex-wife’s scathing words echoed in his mind, and he was forced to confront the cold, hard reality of his situation. Ivy wasn’t a fool. She was offering him a lifeline, a chance to start over, free from the constant threat of his creditors. Was he really in a position to expect more? And her demand that they leave Neo Haven… it made perfect sense. She wanted them out of her sight, out of her life, for good.

And really, what was left for him here? After the family’s downfall, all his so-called friends had vanished. He was lucky they weren’t actively kicking him while he was down. If he was ever going to rebuild his life, he had to start somewhere new. Staying here would only bring more shame and humiliation.

Seeing his silence, Ivy assumed he was refusing. “You can think about it and let me know,” she said with a cool smile. She turned to Jamison. “Let’s go home.”

As they turned to leave, Baillie called out, “I’ll do it! I’ll sign the promissory note. And… we’ll leave Neo Haven. There’s nothing for me here anymore anyway.”

Ivy turned back, a faint smile on her lips. “Then contact all your creditors. I want this settled in the next couple of days.”

With that, she took Jamison’s arm, and they walked out of the hospital.

Rosetta watched them go, then turned to her son. “Baillie, are you sure about this? You’re really going to borrow money from her?”

Baillie nodded. “Either way, I’m in debt. At least this way, I won’t have debt collectors breathing down my neck. The only thing I’ll lose is my pride.”

And when faced with the basic problem of survival, what was pride? He was actually grateful for his ex-wife’s brutal honesty. If they had woken up sooner, if they had swallowed their pride earlier, the Windsor family might not have ended up in this mess.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” Rosetta asked, her voice filled with a mournful sadness. “Your father and Emma are buried here. If we go…”

“We can come back once a year to pay our respects. What’s the alternative? Stay here and be a laughingstock?” Baillie had to find a job, to support himself. Here in Neo Haven, every job interview would be a fresh humiliation. Leaving was his only option.

Two days later, Baillie called Ivy. He had contacted all the creditors. The total debt came to forty-five million dollars.

Fortunately, Ivy’s personal funds were more than enough to cover it.

It was three days before the New Year, and most companies were winding down for the holidays. Ivy’s was no exception. After a company dinner, many of her out-of-town colleagues headed straight for the airport, luggage in tow.

As Ivy was leaving the restaurant, Jamison called to say he was downstairs. He had come to pick her up. She had arranged to meet Baillie and the creditors today to settle the debts once and for all.

When they arrived at the meeting place, the conference room was already packed with a restless crowd. Ivy was a few minutes late, and the creditors, suspecting Baillie had been lying, were starting to get aggressive.

The door swung open, and the room fell silent. All eyes turned to Ivy as she entered, and the crowd parted, creating a path for her.

She walked to the front of the room, her expression cool and composed, with Jamison at her side. At nearly six-foot-three, his presence was commanding, and the powerful aura he exuded seemed to shrink everyone else in the room. They were followed by Boyd, five bank employees, five lawyers, and ten bodyguards. Each bodyguard carried two large duffel bags, which they placed in a neat row on the table.

The already crowded room now felt suffocating. The creditors exchanged nervous whispers. Baillie stared at the bags, confused at first, then realization dawned.

It was cash. Ivy had brought over forty million dollars in cash.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, the traffic was terrible,” Ivy said, her voice calm and polite as she reached the head of the table.

The men in the room looked at the young woman who commanded more authority than any of them, their expressions a mixture of awe and apprehension.

The bank staff set up laptops and cash-counting machines, while the lawyers did the same with their own equipment, including portable printers.

“Ivy, we’re ready to start,” Boyd said once everything was in place.