“And if I don’t?” I asked, my voice dangerously low.
My mother set her cup down. “Then we’ll have to discuss that ‘incident’ from last year, won’t we? The one Anna doesn’t know about. The one that would make her lose complete trust in you.”
She was referring to a professional mistake I’d made at the firm—a minor clerical error they had blown out of proportion to blackmail me. They weren’t just parasites; they were emotional terrorists.
The Counter-Move
I picked up the pen. My brother’s grin widened. But instead of signing, I began to laugh. It wasn’t a happy laugh; it was the sound of a man who had finally seen the bottom of the abyss.
“You really think I’m that same person?” I whispered.
I turned my phone screen toward them. On it was the recording from the cloud—clear footage of them huddled around my phone, stealing my banking credentials, and laughing about how ‘easy’ it was to bleed me dry.
