Chapter 8 - THE FAMILY’S VERSION OF LOVEVictoria arrived at the country club twenty minutes before the meeting.
She wore a cream designer dress and greeted Olivia as though they had seen each other the previous week.
“You look beautiful,” she said. “Black has always suited you.”
Olivia did not return the compliment.
Ethan arrived next, speaking loudly into his phone. He ended the call and barely acknowledged his sister.
Charles entered last.
He did not apologize for the years of silence. He did not mention the wedding or ask about Daniel.
He began with the loan.
“The Miami project is experiencing temporary pressure,” he explained. “Fifteen million would allow us to complete the next construction phase.”
“Samuel reviewed the project,” Olivia said. “You need much more than fifteen million.”
Charles’s expression tightened.
“This is a bridge loan, not an investment analysis.”
“What security are you offering?”
Victoria looked offended.
“Security? He is your father.”
Olivia turned toward her.
“My bank won’t accept that as collateral.”
“This is exactly what wealth has done to you,” Victoria said. “You used to care about people.”
“I still do.”
“Then prove it.”
Olivia almost admired the simplicity of her mother’s logic. Caring meant paying. Love meant surrendering. Forgiveness meant pretending nothing had happened.
Ethan poured himself a glass of water.
“We all made sacrifices for you,” he said.
Olivia looked at him.
“Name one.”
He hesitated.
“We gave you access to the family name.”
“I was born with it.”
“Dad allowed you to work at the company.”
“I worked without a salary for eighteen months.”
“That was experience.”
“You presented my hotel plan as your own.”
Ethan rolled his eyes.
“Are we seriously discussing childhood complaints?”
“We were both in our twenties.”
Charles raised his hand.
“This is pointless. Olivia, the family company is in danger. Whatever disagreements we’ve had, you have a responsibility to protect what your grandfather built.”
At the mention of Arthur, Olivia felt something inside her become completely still.
“My grandfather built a construction company,” she said. “You turned it into a machine that protected Ethan from consequences.”
Charles leaned across the table.
“Be careful.”
It was the same warning he had used when she requested the trust records.
But Olivia was no longer twenty-five and sitting in front of documents she did not understand.
She was the chief executive of a $580 million company.
More importantly, she had stopped believing that his anger was evidence of her guilt.
“You missed my wedding,” she said.
Victoria exhaled sharply.
“Not this again.”
“Yes. This again.”
Olivia looked at each of them.
“You skipped one of the most important days of my life because Ethan wanted your support at an investor retreat. Then you asked me to stop being sensitive. For three years, none of you tried to repair what happened.”
“We thought you needed space,” Victoria said.
“You sent me flowers after my company appeared in a magazine.”
“We were proud.”
“You were interested.”
Charles slammed his hand on the table.
“The family needs a fifteen-million-dollar loan. You have to help us!”
May you like
Olivia placed her hand on the blue folder.
The moment had arrived.
