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I swallowed hard, suddenly unsure how I was supposed to answer that.

Talking about Caspian had always been complicated because I never knew whether to speak about him in the past tense or the present. Calling him my boyfriend felt strange after six years, calling him my ex felt wrong, and saying was made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t like.

“Yes,” I finally said. “He’s the father of my son, but he’s been missing for the last six years.”

There was a brief pause on the other end.

“Oh,” she said softly, her professional tone gentling. “I’m sorry. In that case, I won’t ask whether you were expecting a transfer from him.”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “Definitely not.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, is there anyone you’re aware of who manages his financial affairs?”

I immediately thought about Henrietta. “His mom has handled a lot of his business since he disappeared… property, accounts, things like that. I asked her about the money, but she said she didn’t send it.”

I could hear the woman typing.

“Understood. Based on what we can see on our end, Ms. Monroe, the transfer itself is legitimate. There is nothing currently indicating that the funds were sent in error.”

“So I can use it?”

“The funds are available to you. Given the amount, however, you will likely be contacted by our private wealth division as well. There are additional security measures, account structures, and services we strongly recommend for clients maintaining assets of this size.”

Clients maintaining assets of this size.

Jesus Christ.

“Am I about to owe the IRS half of this?” I had to know.

“No, ma’am. Receiving the transfer does not automatically make it taxable income. However, because of the amount involved, there may be reporting or tax considerations depending on how the transfer was structured. The private wealth representative who contacts you can help you determine what additional professionals you may need.”

Great. I have been rich for approximately three days, and I already need a financial team.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can assist you with today?”

I almost asked her if the bank had a department specifically designed for women whose missing boyfriend had somehow made them millions of dollars overnight.

Something told me they did not.

“No. I think you’ve answered enough questions to keep me confused for the rest of the day.”

After we disconnected, I lowered the phone to the counter and stared at my banking app again.

$90,000,012.18.

Still there.

Henrietta hadn’t sent it, the bank said it was legitimate, nobody had requested it back, and apparently, somewhere in the financial universe, Caspian Black still had enough money tucked away to change my entire family’s life with one transfer.

I slowly picked up my coffee.

Not even a minute later, my phone rang again. I expected it to be the bank calling back, but the number flashing across my screen was an unfamiliar local number I didn’t recognize.

“Damn,” I muttered. “Please don’t let this be the feds or the IRS already. I haven’t even had time enjoying being rich.”