“Do not speak to your mother that way.”
My father
growled, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke into the freezing air.
“You are calculating pennies with your own
brother. Harrison is building an empire. Naomi brings valuable connections to
this family. What do you do, Olivia? You are a freelance computer typer. You
click buttons in the dark all day. We need this space for real business, not your little hobbies.”
“We really
appreciate your understanding, Olivia,”
Naomi said, her tone dripping with fake sweetness.
Harrison is just under so
much pressure right now, managing millions of dollars.
“The least you can do is support him. I am sure you can
find a nice little apartment somewhere closer to the city, somewhere more suited to your income bracket.”
Harrison
smirked, spinning the keys to his least Porsche around his index finger.
“Yeah, sis, you can finally get out of my
shadow. Do not worry. I will have my assistant send you a list of affordable studios. Now, wrap it up. The movers are
bringing our office desks in at 8 tomorrow morning.”
I looked at the four of them. A united front of delusion and
arrogance. For years, I had been the family ATM, the quiet scapegoat who
funded their lavish lifestyle while they worshiped my brother. They thought I was just a low-level data analyst. They did
not know I spent the last 5 years quietly co-founding a financial security startup, and they certainly did not know
that our final acquisition papers were signed exactly 3 hours ago.
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