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The Rowe family swallows its young and digests them slowly until over the years we either become a part of the family body or we’re spit out and sent away. Dissent is not tolerated.
“You want me to pay the Panagos…with what money?” Grandpa’s eyebrows remain elevated and his tone suggests I’m a foolish child that doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
I put my hands on my hips. “I don’t care what money you use. Take it from my trust if you have to, but I want you to pay themsomething.”
“Darling, your father mostlydrainedyour trust months ago. There’s no money.”
That hits me hard. I haven’t looked at my statements in a while, mostly because I live off what I earn and I try not to dip into my family money, but to suddenly learn that the safety net I’ve always known was there is now missing entirely—that makes me feel like I’m hanging from my fingers off the edge of a steep cliff and there’s nothing but air below me for a very long while.
And it makes me resentful. I want to hate the Rowe family right now and yet the money still matters because the money means safety, and if that money is gone then what am I anymore? What is our family? Everything we’ve done was to preserve our fortune and grow our honor, and now it’s like Daddy stole everything and burned it all to the ground, and we’re left with the empty, meaningless trappings of an ancient and crumbling life.
I slowly sink into a chair. “Daddy stole from me.”
“If it makes you feel any better, he stole from everyone. He took whatever he could get his hands on, including with most of the money in almost all of our accounts. We still have some savings and investments he couldn’t liquidate without tipping me off, but yes, your father stolea lotfrom our accounts all for that insane crypto scheme of his. I don’t know how he thought it would ever work, that stupid, stupid man.”
“But if we don’t have any money, how do we still have all this?” I gesture around me at the manor. There’s staff, maintenance, taxes, electricity, dozens of bills and expenses, and it all has to be paid every month.
“Credit,” Grandpa says briskly. “Extended by some friendly banks that don’t quite realize how hard up we are. I had to use my shares in the company as collateral, but I’ve secured us enough money to keep on going for a while at an absurd interest rate. Carmine’s money is meant to go a long way toward stabilizing our assets, and once that comes through, I’m hoping we’ll be able to turn around Rowe Oil. But, darling, as of right this moment, there is no money to give to those despicable gangsters.”
I let that fully sink in.
We’re bankrupt.
I knew it was bad—I knew Daddy took a lot of money from the company—but I didn’t realize he tookeverything. How didn’t anyone notice this until now? How am I only just coming to understand how deep this all goes and how we’re all floundering around without a net? It’s no wonder Grandpa is practically salivating at the idea of me marrying a rich man, even if he’s a rich man with a dark past and a bad name. We need money for the first time in my life.
This is what happens when your entire family’s philosophy on emotions is basicallydon’t have any. I can’t remember the last time I had a real conversation with Grandpa or Grandma about anything serious, and that must be why they never bothered to tell me about the Panagos and all the missing money. Our family simply doesn’t talk about it, no matter how badly we really need to talk about it.
“You knew this whole time,” I say quietly, meeting my grandpa’s gaze. “You knew about the Panagos. Grandma too. Does everyone else?”
“No,” Grandpa says briskly. “Only your grandmother and I are privy to the ugly details of what your father did. The rest of the family doesn’t need to know.”
“And you assumed I was part of that too?”
“Yes, I did, and—”
“Grandpa,” I say, cutting him off for the first time in my life, “they’re coming after me. Not once, but twice now. The Panagos want me to pay them— and do you have any idea how much Daddy owes?”
He hesitates, frowning. “I’m sorry. I don’t know exact figures.”
“Ten million dollars.”
Grandpa’s eyes go round and his fingers grip the arms of his chair. Neither of us move for several seconds and I let that number sink in as deep as it can go, and hopefully, it’ll pierce through the strange shell he’s got lining his brain. His world needs to flip upside-down because right now Grandpa is still operating like the old rules apply to us.
They don’t anymore.
We’re broke and a very violent, very dangerous mafia family wants a lot of money from us, and they’re going to do whatever it takes to get it.
“I didn’t know,” he says and visibly forces himself to relax. “I knew it was substantial, but that much? My god.”
“Carmine says they’re aggressive. He says the Panagos are going to hurt me if they don’t get what they want, and I believe him.”
“They can’t, I mean, they won’t. What do they have to gain from hurting you? Brice, sweetie, even if I wanted to pay off a bunch of violent mobster blackmailers, and I most certainly do not, we don’t have ten million dollars. We barely even haveoneand that’s being used as collateral along with all our stock options, our properties, our investments, our everything. We have nothing left to give right now.”
“Find something. Daddy owes a lot of people a lot of money, but these people are the only ones threatening to kill me.”
Grandpa takes a moment and his eyes drift away from me. I want to scream in this face—I’m you granddaughter! You changed my diapers! You were there when I took my first steps!—but he’s not looking at me now. Grandpa has always been harsh and intense, but he’s also been loving and kind and fair. But this doesn’t seem like the same man I grew up with.
He looks withered and frail and scared.
