As he read the message, Marco's face lit up, and he exclaimed the name of the person who had been on his mind.
"Patrick!"
"Yes, boss?" A young man in a corporate suit strode into the room, bowing his head in greeting. "How can I help you, boss?"
Marco held up his phone, showing Patrick the words displayed on the screen.
"This," Marco said, his voice trailing off as Patrick read the message.
"When did you get this, boss? Aren't these scammers being too much?"
"Scammers?" Marco arched an eyebrow, surprised by Patrick's assumption. "How sure are you about that?"
Patrick hesitated under Marco's intense stare. Realizing he might have made a mistake, he quickly bowed his head and replied, "A week ago."
"Since when did you start making decisions for me?" Marco shouted, banging his hands on the table, his anger fueled by his desire to acquire the new target.
"Get him and make him ready for me!" Marco ordered sharply.
"Yes, boss." Patrick scrambled out of the room, ready to carry out the order.
Once outside, Patrick exhaled a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He had never seen his boss so angry and annoyed. The situation with the gay club had clearly added to Marco's frustration.
Patrick left the corridor and entered his office. Marco had different business ventures, but the world knew him for his electronic companies, malls, restaurants, hotels, and spas. He had it all when it came to wealth, and in the underworld, he was known as the boss.
"I need to message him and get in touch with him," Patrick muttered as he typed on his laptop, his fingers moving quickly over the keys.
__________
Rafael lay on his bed, feeling as though the weight of the world pressed down on him. He sighed repeatedly, trying to convince himself that everything would be okay.
It had been a day since he sent the message to Don Marco, and there had been no response. What else could he do but wait?
His main concern was that everyone at the orphanage would be affected by the debt one way or another.
"Could I take all the burden myself? Is it even possible to pay it off?" he wondered, grappling with the situation.
Then a new thought crossed his mind. 'Wait... these debt collectors are ruthless. How much is the debt anyway? Maybe I can pay it back,' he thought, sitting up as a plan formed in his mind.
"Perhaps I could work and try to pay the money back slowly," he muttered, dialing Mrs. Lopez's number.
"Hello, ma'am. How are you doing?" he asked as soon as the call connected.
Mrs. Lopez's voice was calm as she responded, "I'm fine, Rafael. I hope there's no problem?"
"Nothing much," he laughed, trying to sound casual. "I just wanted to know how much the debt we need to pay back is."
"Oh, that's a lot," she said, pausing before adding, "Because of the high interest, the loan keeps increasing each day and can only stop when we pay it off."
Rafael heard the rustle of papers as she checked the figures, then she continued, "It's almost 300 thousand dollars."
"Almost half a million dollars!" Rafael exclaimed, shocked by the amount.
"Okay, thank you," he said, ending the call.
His high hopes of paying the debt off by working were instantly dashed. If Mrs. Lopez, with her pension, couldn't manage to pay it off slowly, what chance did he have? Why had he even thought he could handle it?
The call only added to his stress and anxiety. He lay on the bed, sighing, until his phone chimed with a notification.
He scrambled up, grabbing the phone quickly. "Let it be Don Marco," he prayed fervently, closing his eyes as he opened his messages.
He opened one eye, then the other, and saw that his prayers had been partially answered: Marco's secretary had replied.
[This treatment you mentioned, can we meet to discuss it further?]
Rafael was overjoyed as he read the message. This meant that if Don Marco's secretary was interested in his treatment, he would likely be accepted to work as his personal doctor!
"Yes… yes… yes…" he exclaimed to the empty room, feeling a rush of relief and excitement.
He quickly typed a response:
[Thank you for replying to my message. Pick a date, time, and place, and I will be available.]
He barely took his eyes off the screen before another message arrived:
[Tomorrow at 12 p.m., at Diaz Restaurant, the one near the park.]
"Of course, I'm ready anytime," he muttered as he typed back his confirmation.
[Okay.]
________
Rafael stood outside the restaurant, squinting against the sun and wondering whether Don Marco would be present at their meeting.
The thought had consumed him so much that he spent far too long choosing an outfit, finally settling on one only after his friend's exasperated insistence.
He gave his reflection a final once-over before stepping inside.
Patrick was already seated at a corner table, dressed in a sharp suit that matched the restaurant's upscale atmosphere. As Rafael approached, Patrick got straight to the point.
"So, you think you can treat the boss?" Patrick began, his tone skeptical. "Do you even know what he's dealing with? Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Rafael nodded, a calm smile on his face. "I'm aware of his condition, and as a doctor, I can tell you that his current treatment is doing more harm than good. It needs to stop."
Patrick raised an eyebrow. "So, you're not planning to use any of the usual methods?"
"Would I even be here if I was?" Rafael replied, meeting Patrick's gaze steadily.
Patrick hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Let me confirm with the boss."
He pulled out his phone, accidentally putting it on speaker. Marco's voice boomed through the speaker, filling the quiet space between them.
"Did you get him?" Marco asked.
"Not yet, boss. There's a small issue," Patrick began.
Marco interrupted, his tone brusque. "If it can be solved and he's capable, then it's not a problem. Fix it."
Patrick ended the call and turned back to Rafael with a grim look. He wasn't sure if his boss was in his right mind when he answered, but he couldn't dwell on it; there was a time limit to spend on the matter.
"Looks like your 'problem' isn't much of one after all. Now, about your contract... How does ten thousand dollars a month sound?"
Rafael blinked in surprise. "Ten thousand?" he repeated, stunned.
The amount was far beyond what he'd expected, given his recent graduation. The most shocking part was that he had forgotten that he would be working and would receive an income.