Chapter 4 - THE FAMILY REUNION
By Tuesday afternoon, my parents’ house had turned into a command center of panic.
I knew this because my older cousin, Tyler—the only member of the extended family who possessed a working moral compass—called me from his car outside my parents' house.
"Dude, it’s a absolute war zone in there," Tyler said, laughing softly into the phone. "Uncle Richard is stomping around the living room screaming at his lawyers. Marcus Miller officially pulled the permit funding for the downtown building this morning. Your dad’s partner at the firm told him that if he doesn't get you back by Thursday, the board is going to hold a vote of no confidence."
I leaned back against the headboard of the bed in our hotel suite, watching Chloe sketch new hairstyle ideas on a notepad. "What about my mother?"
"Aunt Susan is playing the martyr," Tyler said. "She’s telling everyone who will listen that Chloe turned you against your own blood. But honestly, Ethan? Half the family thinks Harper got what she deserved. We’ve all been waiting for someone to put that girl in her place for years."
"How is Harper handling it?"
"She was fine until your dad told her he’s cutting off her allowance to pay for the legal fees to fight your non-compete," Tyler chuckled. "Now she’s locking herself in her room screaming that you ruined her life. She actually tried to claim that Chloe baited her into throwing the dress in the pool."
"Classic," I muttered. "Thanks for the update, Ty."
"Hey, Ethan?" Tyler’s voice grew serious. "Are you really not letting them come to the wedding?"
"They aren't invited, Tyler. I’m not letting my wife walk down the aisle looking at people who wished for her failure."
"I respect that," Tyler said. "See you Friday, man. I’ll be there in the front row."
When I hung up, Chloe looked up from her pad. "Is your dad really sick?"
"No," I said flatly. "My dad has had 'chest pains' every time a major subcontractor tried to sue him for late payments over the last decade. It’s his favorite manipulation tactic when he loses control of a situation."
At 3:00 PM, a heavy knock rattled the door of our hotel suite.
I opened it to find my mother standing in the hallway.
She looked frantic. Her usually perfect blonde bob was slightly disheveled, and she was clutching an expensive leather handbag to her chest like a shield. Behind her stood my father, his face dark and thunderous.
"We need to talk," Dad said, shoving past me into the suite without waiting for an invitation.
"Richard, wait—" Mom began, but Dad ignored her, walking straight into the living area where Chloe was sitting.
Chloe didn't flinch. She sat up straight, stacked her papers neatly on the coffee table, and looked at my father with a calm, steady gaze.
"You've had your fun, Ethan," Dad barked, turning to face me with his hands on his hips. "You made your point. You showed everyone how important you are. Now call Marcus Miller and tell him to release the permits."
I closed the suite door slowly and latched the security deadbolt.
"No," I said.
Dad sneered. "Don't be stupid. You think that new firm in Dallas is actually going to hire you after I file an injunction for breach of contract? I will tie you up in court for the next two years, Ethan. You won't make a dime in this state."
"Try it," I said smoothly. "The non-compete clause in my contract specifies that I cannot work for a direct competitor within a fifty-mile radius of Austin. The firm in Dallas operates out of Fort Worth. Your legal team knows that, Dad. That's why your lawyer didn't answer your calls this morning."
Dad’s jaw tightened. He knew I was right. I had drafted that clause myself three years ago.
Mom stepped forward, her eyes welling with dramatic tears as she approached Chloe. "Chloe, please. Talk to him. You're a sweet girl. You know how much family means to us. Harper is just a child—"
"Harper is twenty years old, Mrs. Vance," Chloe interrupted softly. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the room like a razor. "When I was twenty, I was working two jobs to help pay for my mother's medical treatments. At twenty, I knew the difference between a joke and cruelty."
"She made a mistake!" Mom cried out. "She's young! She's stupid! She's sorry!"
"She isn't sorry," Chloe said. "She was sitting by the pool laughing while I was crying. And you didn't check on me once. You asked if the dry cleaner could fix it so you wouldn't have to deal with an uncomfortable dinner conversation."
Mom looked as if she had been slapped.
"Look," Dad gritted out, pulling a checkbook from his jacket pocket. "Name your price. How much was the dress? Five thousand? Ten thousand? I’ll write you a check right now for twenty grand. Buy ten new dresses. Just fix the Miller contract and show up to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow."
I walked over, took the checkbook out of his hand, and tossed it into the trash can beside the desk.
"Your money is no good here, Dad," I said. "You think everything can be bought off because you've spent twenty years buying Harper out of trouble. When she got caught shoplifting at seventeen, you paid off the store manager. When she hit a parked car last year, you paid for the damages under the table so her record stayed clean."
I stepped right up to my father, standing nose-to-nose with him.
"You built a monster, Dad. And now you're upset that she bit you."
Dad’s breathing was heavy, his face turning an angry shade of purple. "If you do this... if you walk away now, you are cut off from the family trust. You won't get a single dollar of the estate. Everything goes to Harper."
I couldn't help it. I laughed out loud.
"Give it all to her," I said. "Let's see how long she lasts when you aren't around to pay off the people she hurts. Now, get out of my hotel room."
"Ethan—" Mom sobbed.
"Out," I said, opening the door and pointing to the hallway. "Before I call hotel security and have you escorted out of the building."
Dad stared at me for a long, silent moment. The realization was finally sinking into his head: he had no leverage left. The money didn't matter. The threats didn't work. The power dynamic had completely inverted.
"You're making the biggest mistake of your life," Dad whispered, his voice trembling with genuine rage.
"No," I replied, holding the door wide open. "The biggest mistake of my life was not leaving three years ago."
Dad grabbed Mom by the arm and dragged her out into the hallway. Mom kept looking back at us, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't say another word.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Chloe stood up and walked over to me. She wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her head against my chest.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I've never felt better in my life," I said, kissing the top of her head.
My phone buzzed on the counter. It was a text message from an unknown number.
I opened it.
May you like
You think you won? the text read. Wait until you see what I do next.
It was from Harper.
