Ethan got down his car and walked towards the door of the house.
It was strange that Camila hadn't come out after hearing the sound of his car, but he figured she was probably busy with something.
Ethan pressed the doorbell and took a step back waiting for the door to be unlocked, but afew seconds passed and there was no answer.
He frowned and then opted to knock this time.
Still nothing.
Ethan checked the time, it was 9:27 a.m. He was early, but only barely. He debated texting Lana, but that would just delay things.
Lifting his hand, he knocked again, firmer this time.
Finally, there was the faint sound of footsteps approaching, followed by the quiet click of a lock turning.
The door swung open with so much force that it almost felt as if the person opening it was trying to rip it off its hinges.
A woman stood in the doorway, her eyes looked bloodshot and her chestnut brown hair tied messily back.
She was in a loose black tee and joggers—far from the professional appearance Ethan had expected. But what stood out most were the bags under her hazel eyes and the barely restrained rage in her voice.
The first thing Ethan noticed was how different she looked from the image. A little less sophisticated, by the way she was right now, maybe, but the image on the website did not do justice to her real self.
"I said I needed until the end of the week!" she snapped, her hand tightening around the handle of the door. "You don't get to just show up—"
She paused whatever she was going to say.
Her gaze locked onto Ethan's calm and unfazed expression. He was dressed neatly, holding a phone in one hand and there was a faint frown between his brows. Not what she expected and he definitely was not the usual debt collector.
"You're not from Avance?" she said slowly, voice dropping an octave.
"Definitely not," Ethan replied dryly. "I'm Ethan Carter. Lana Wolfe said you agreed to a meeting."
Camila blinked, the tension in her shoulders briefly replaced with disbelief, then her expression hardened again.
"Of course she did," she muttered bitterly. "That manipulative little—"
She stepped back, running a hand through her hair and muttering something under her breath that Ethan couldn't quite catch.
"Look, if this is some kind of pressure tactic—"
"It's not," Ethan said calmly. "I was told you were open to discussing the sale. If you're not, I'll leave."
Camila studied him for a moment, she was still skeptical but at least she was not slamming the door shut in his face.
"You look too young to be a buyer," she finally said.
"You and Lana both—" Ethan murmured.
She huffed a humorless breath and stepped aside. "Fine. You came all the way here. Five minutes. Then you're gone."
Ethan calmly walked in, his eyes sweeping the inside of the house.
He noticed the disorganized stacks of paperwork on the kitchen counter, a laptop open with numbers on the screen, and a nearly empty coffee pot beside it.
Yeah… she was stressed and in some kind of trouble, something that might come in handy during their negotiation.
Camila shut the door behind him with a heavy thud and crossed her arms. "If you think I'm desperate enough to sell my servers for cheap, then I advise you leave right now."
"I think," he responded slowly, "you're in a tough spot. And I don't believe in kicking people when they're already bleeding...well, except a selected few."
He muttered the last part under his breath so Camila couldn't hear what he said.
Her jaw clenched at his words but she didn't deny it.
Ethan added, "Whatever Lana told you—or me—it doesn't matter. I'm here to make an offer. One that won't insult your work. And hopefully get you out of whatever trouble you currently are in."
Camila didn't say anything for a long second. Her eyes narrowed, searching his face like she was trying to read between the lines. Ethan didn't break eye contact until she did.
Finally, she exhaled through her nose and turned toward the kitchen.
"Sit," she said flatly, gesturing toward the dining table as she moved to pour herself a cup of what remained in the coffee pot. "If you're going to waste my time, I might as well be caffeinated."
"So," she started, "let's start with why you want my server farm."
Ethan calmly sat down and faced her, "let's just say I need an infrastructure that I have complete control over."
A frown appeared on her face as she heard Ethan's words. Though, as a buyer, he didn't need to tell her what he was going to do with the farm if it was purchased but she expected a lot more than such a vague answer.
Camila leaned against the counter, sipping her coffee and staring him down over the rim of her mug. "That's a pretty vague way of saying 'none of your business.'"
Ethan just lightly shrugged. In actuality, it really wasn't. After all, he was offering to buy the place not rent it.
But since Camila seemed concerned that he would just tear down her life's work and replace it with whatever he wanted to, Ethan had to give her even if just a bit.
"If you're worried about me gutting everything and turning it into a crypto mine or some kind of drop-shipping hellhole," Ethan said, resting his arms casually on the table, "you can relax. That's not what this is."
"Is that so?" Camila said, still unconvinced. "Then what exactly are you offering me Mr. Carter?"
Pulling out a document he had previously prepared, Ethan placed it on the table and gently slid it over before saying, "have a look."
Curiosity winning against her suspicion, Camila put her coffee down and picked up the file.
The opened it and started reading, but the more she read, the wider her eyes got before she dropped it back on the table and looked at Ethan with trembling eyes,
"W-what the hell is this?"