“I wasn’t going to talk about your own charity,” I say.“Relax.”
She exhales like she’s won something.
Her throat works.
Harvey slides another page forward.“Let’s discuss the philanthropic organization where Mrs.Winthrop holds influence.Misallocation of funds, falsified reporting, and there’s also an affair with an overseeing judge.”
My mother goes rigid.“That is?—”
“Adorable?”I offer.“Predictable?Embarrassing?”Then I glance at Danny boy and grin.“You also have other side pieces, but let’s not talk about it—for now.”
Her lips tremble once before she clamps them together, trying to regain control.
My father steps forward.“You have no right.”
I look at him.“I have every right.You built your empire on leverage.Congratulations.You taught me the game.”
Daniel is watching Harvey now like he’s trying to figure out which part of the building is on fire first.
Harvey continues, smooth.“We also have concerns regarding your son’s financial activity.”
My mother’s head snaps toward him.“Leave my children out of this.”
I grin.“Mom, I am your child.You’ve never left me out of anything.”
Harvey doesn’t look up as he says, “Your son has embezzlement exposure through a discretionary fund and a documented assault incident captured on camera.”
My father goes still.
My mother’s face drains of color.
Daniel clears his throat, attempting authority.“Mr.Winthrop, if you proceed with these actions, you will trigger countermeasures.”
I step closer to him and smile like a man who’s done being afraid.
“Daniel,” I say softly, “you are not the monster in my story.You’re the receptionist.”
His eyes harden.“You’re making a mistake.”
Harvey answers for me, polite.“No.He’s making a plan.”
I gesture at the documents.“Here’s how this goes.”
My father squares his shoulders.“You don’t dictate terms to me.”
I shrug.“Oh, I don’t plan to dictate anything.I’m just letting you know about everything we’re about to release.”I check my watch and grin at Harvey.“What time did you set up to blow up the Winthrop family?”
Harvey grins.“Nine o’clock.The police should be here by then.Reporters are scheduled.I think we should leave.”
“You did all of this,” my father says, staring at me as if I’m a stranger wearing his son’s face, “over a woman.”
I smile.It’s not kind.It’s not even particularly amused.It’s the smile you give someone right before you remind them you learned everything you know from watching them.
“Over my family,” I correct.“Over my child.”My eyes cut to his.“Over the fact that you two decided Monty and Vesper are disposable and don’t want to even acknowledge that I’m in love with a man too.”
My mother’s voice tries to soften the moment, tries to turn it into a mother-son misunderstanding.“Callaway, sweetheart?—”
“Don’t,” I say, and the word comes out too fast, too sharp, too full of the past.I take a step closer to the coffee table and put my palm flat on the documents as if I can press the truth into the wood.“Don’t call me that when you spent the last month trying to manipulate me by destroying our lives.”
