“Not nobody, Frank,” I turned to face him fully. “I’m the majority shareholder of Intrepid Tech. I’m the mysterious chairman Mr. Sterling reports to. I’ve been the one signing the approvals that kept you employed for the past three years, despite twelve consecutive months of missed sales targets.”
I watched the information try to penetrate his skull, watched him struggle with a reality that contradicted everything he believed about the world, about me, about himself.
“Three years ago,” I continued, “on a rainy Tuesday morning, I won four hundred and fifty million dollars in the lottery. After taxes and lump sum, I walked away with two hundred and eighty million in cash. I set up a blind trust, bought controlling interest in several companies—including Intrepid Tech—and I kept working as a janitor. I wanted to see something, Dad. I wanted to know if you were capable of loving someone without conditions. If you could value family over status. If there was anything real underneath all the performative success.”
My mother made a sound like a strangled gasp. Brad had gone from red to white to faintly green.
“I’m the one who paid Mom’s credit card bills,” I said, pulling out my phone and opening a folder of electronic transfers. “Every time she maxed them out buying things she didn’t need to impress people she didn’t like. Eighteen anonymous payments over three years. Total: $247,000.”
I scrolled to another folder. “I’m the one who kept Dad employed when the company wanted to push him into early retirement. I attended board meetings via proxy just to protect his job. His salary for the past three years? Effectively paid by me.”
Another folder. “And Brad. Sweet, stupid Brad. I paid off your gambling debts. I settled your fraud lawsuits. I bought back the contracts you forged. I purchased a house for the elderly couple you scammed. You thought you were lucky? You thought you were clever? You’re only out of prison because I put you there.”
