So he decided to humiliate me publicly.
“You can leave tonight,” he said. “And don’t expect to be welcomed back.”
Mom joined in. “Maybe without your attitude, this family can finally enjoy peace.”
I smiled.
Not because his words did not hurt.
I smiled because I had waited years for them to say exactly what they meant.
“Good,” I replied. “You just made my decision easy.”
Every grin around the table vanished.
The entire room became silent.
I picked up my phone and sent a single email.
Thirty seconds later, the family accountant’s phone vibrated.
His expression changed before anyone else realized what had happened.
Part 2:
Dad was the first to notice.
“Martin?” he said. “What is it?”
The accountant glanced at me before checking the screen once more. “The operating account access has been suspended.”
Vivian gave an uneasy laugh. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” I said, “my personal guarantee is officially withdrawn.”
Dad shot to his feet so quickly that his chair slammed into the wall. “You can’t do that.”
“I already did.”
The warmth drained from the room.
Martin cleared his throat. “Edward, without her guarantee, the bank can call the review immediately.”
