Chapter 6 - Family Lines Redrawn
The shockwaves of Julian’s disgrace did not stay contained within the walls of our father’s study; they rippled through our extended family like an earthquake.
By Wednesday morning, my phone was ringing off the hook.
I ignored calls from aunts and uncles who had spent the last five years ignoring me. But by noon, Uncle Raymond showed up at the front gate, pressing his face against the wrought-iron bars like a penitent pilgrim seeking absolution.
I walked down the paved driveway, carrying a pruning shear, stopping a few feet away from the gate.
“Elena! Thank God you’re here,” Raymond said, his hands gripping the metal bars. “I wanted to apologize for Saturday. We were all in shock, you see. Julian is such a silver-tongued devil; he had us all convinced he was the victim of some bureaucratic mix-up.”
“You didn't look like you were in shock when you helped him drag me away from the pew,” I reminded him, my voice completely devoid of inflection.
Raymond flinched, his face flushing crimson. “Come on, Elena. Family is family. We’ve all made mistakes. Now that Julian is out of the picture... well, your father always liked me. We could sit down, talk about restructuring the estate advisory board, make sure the family business stays in trusted hands—hands like mine.”
I stared at him for a long, agonizing moment. For years, people like Raymond had deferred to Julian because Julian was loud, wealthy, and unapologetically ambitious. They had treated my quiet dedication as servitude, assuming I was content to stay in the background while the men divided the spoils.
“My father’s estate advisory board is currently being managed by Price & Sterling,” I said smoothly. “And the only hands touching his legacy are mine.”
“Elena, don’t be like that,” Raymond pleaded, his voice dropping into a wheedling tone. “You’re a young woman alone in this big house. You need an older male figure to guide you through the probate process. Without us, you’ll get eaten alive by the lawyers.”
“The lawyers are working for me, Uncle Raymond,” I said, lifting the pruning shears slightly. “And right now, you’re standing on private property controlled by an irrevocable trust. If you don't step away from the gate in the next ten seconds, I’ll call Vance and have you formally trespassed.”
Raymond’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “You wouldn't dare! I’m your blood!”
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“Five, four, three...” I began counting, my eyes locking onto his with absolute, unyielding coldness.
Raymond muttered a foul curse under his breath, turned on his heel, and stormed back toward his sedan. I watched him drive away, feeling a strange, breathtaking lightness settle into my chest. For the first time in my life, I wasn't waiting for someone else’s permission to exist.
