Mr. Johnson walked through the corridors behind a guard, feeling dutiful for carrying pride on his shoulders. He tried to imitate the aura of the rich, as he followed the guard who led him to Thompson.
The joy he felt was overwhelming as the thought of leaving this place with what he had always wanted, swept across his mind every minute. He had waited for this day for so long, the day she would be his and his alone. He felt a sense of destiny, a feeling that he and Theresa were meant to be together.
If only Theresa had willingly accepted his proposal, then he wouldn't have gone to this extent. He promised her a life of comfort and wealth, but she rejected him, not once but countless times. Although he wasn't rich now, he would be in a few years. His job in the government paid him a handsome salary, enough for him to leave the middle class soon.
But there was no harm done, he thought. Now everything would fall into its rightful place. Theresa would be his and his alone.
As they halted before a door, he tipped his chin, patiently waiting for the guard to open it. The door, made of solid oak, loomed before him. Its intricate carvings a testament to the wealth and power that lay beyond. The guard, a towering figure, bowed slightly before taking his leave, leaving a furious Johnson behind.
Determined to preserve his good mood, Mr. Johnson opened the door himself, deciding to forgive the guard for his rudeness. Doesn't that guard know he works for the government? he thought as he stepped inside.
A smile spread across his face when he spotted Thompson, who was engrossed in the stacks of papers piled high on his desk. Walking forward, Johnson made himself comfortable in one of the chairs opposite him.
Thompson lifted his gaze from the paperwork to the man who had seated himself without invitation. He briefly wondered if agreeing to hear Johnson out had been a mistake—but he knew the man wouldn't leave easily. Not until he got what he wanted.
"How can I assist you, Mr. Bright?" Thompson asked, his tone polite but curt, making it clear he had little patience for this unexpected visit.
"I want to buy a slave." His chin remained high.
"Is that so?" Thompson replied. "Allow me to inform someone—he will show you the ones for sale—"
"Y-you don't have to worry about that," Mr. Johnson cut in. "I already have one in mind." He smiled.
Thompson sighed. "Theresa, you mean."
Johnson nodded quickly, like a child eager to reclaim his favorite toy.
"You sold her to me, remember? It seems you didn't read the contract properly, I don't do refunds."
Johnson nodded again, unfazed. "I'm aware of that. I don't plan on asking for a refund." He placed a bag of silver coins on the desk between them. "I plan on buying her back."
Thompson threw his head back in laughter. Who did this man think he was? "Do you think this establishment is a place to settle grudges? Or do you just want to make a fool out of me?"
Johnson gulped. "No, no, it's not that," he said quickly, waving his hands. "I just... felt pity for her and decided to buy her back."
"Pity or revenge?" Thompson's glare darkened. He had no interest in their petty problems, but like it or not, he was involved. Theresa belonged to him now, and he wouldn't let this coward insult him by thinking he could just take her back. Did he look like someone willing to play their stupid game? Exhaling sharply, he asked, "how much do you have?"
Mr. Johnson grew excited at Thompson's last words. Shifting in his seat, he leaned closer to the table. "This here." He placed his hand on the bag of coins and looked up. "It's up to ten gold—"
Thompson cut him off with a loud, mocking laugh, as if he had just heard the most ridiculous thing.
"Fifteen gold—"
Bang!
Thompson slammed his hands on the desk before Johnson could finish. "I spent over fifteen gold coins on you and your town. Why would I take anything less than that?"
Johnson cleared his throat. He was just negotiating, he thought. "That's just the down payment. How much do you want in total?"
Thompson leaned back in his chair. "That's what you should've asked first." He smirked. "Fifty gold coins..."
Johnson's mouth went dry.
"Let me finish, will you?" Thompson chuckled at his expression. "That is what I would be getting from in an auction, but—" he paused, letting his words sink into the coward's head. "Get me half of that, and I'll consider your offer."
"Isn't this cheating? I barely got close to that amount from you," Mr. Johnson complained. "If I sold her myself—"
"You wouldn't even get a quarter of what I gave you," Thompson cut him off. "And you would be arrested for selling a person. Weren't you taught this, Mr. Malcolm?" He mocked. "They are only classified as slaves when they pass through the house."
"I know that," Johnson harrumphed.
"Good. Now run along and bring the money." He waved his hand at Johnson. "I already have a buyer for her."
"B-But she j-just got here. I came immediately so I wouldn't have any competition."
Thompson scoffed at his words. "Well, you came too late. You should've followed my carriage when I left your town."
Johnson ignored Thompson's sarcastic words and instead focused on the main reason he was here. "I wish to pay in installments." Once again, he tipped his chin.
Twenty five gold coins were a lot, but not too much for a government worker. Some of his colleagues at work owned slaves, and he too wanted something to brag about. Having Theresa beside him as his slave would make his colleagues look at him with envy, considering how beautiful she was.
Taking a few more from his savings wouldn't be too bad. The horses and other things he bought for this trip didn't take too much from him. Of course, he would earn it all back in a few months, and his mother didn't need to know.
"No."
"Then give me a few days." He couldn't miss this chance.
"Three days." A smirk came to rest on his lips. "Starting today."
"Wait... what, that's not fair," Mr. Johnson complained.
Thompson's smirk vanished. "Then get out of my office."
"Fine." Mr. Johnson complied. "I will be back the day after tomorrow, so don't sell her until then."
"We'll see about that."
Mr. Johnson cleared his throat, raising his chin once again as if Thompson were sitting on the ceiling, even though he sat just opposite him. "I would like to see my slave for a moment," he said.
Thompson glared at the man until he quickly dropped his foolish pretense. "What else can I help you with?"
"N-No... n-nothing," he stuttered, straightening up and heading toward the door.
Thompson watched as the man hurriedly made his way out of the office. He stopped just as he was about to open the door, as if about to say something, but quickly turned back and left when he noticed Thompson's unfriendly expression.
Thompson pulled open a drawer, reaching for his copy of Theresa's details.
"Theresa..." He murmured her name. "What should I do with you?"