My parents told me to hand over the keys to my $3 million villa so my sister could turn it into short-term rentals.
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Chapter 2 / 3
CHAPTER 2: The Receipt
CHAPTER 2: The Receipt
I opened my phone again.
Not to call anyone this time.
To show something.
I turned the screen toward them.
A folder labeled: WHITMORE INTERNAL AUDITS – FINAL.
Dad frowned. “What is that?”
“Everything,” I said.
I tapped once.
Documents loaded. Transfers. Missed payments. Failed ventures. Emergency capital injections I had personally approved over the years.
And one line item circled in red:
$18.4 million in family bailouts – unrecovered.
Brielle’s voice dropped. “Why are you keeping track of that?”
I tilted my head.
“Because someone had to.”
My father stared at the screen longer than anyone else.
Not angry now.
May you like
Calculating.
For the first time, realizing there was a version of this story where he wasn’t in control of the ending.
