Chapter 3

That evening, my parents showed up.

Alex, my new bodyguard, met them in the hallway outside my condo. I watched on the security feed from my living room.

My mother, Debra, saw him and immediately puffed up her chest. "Who are you? I' m here to see my daughter."

"Ms. Johns is not accepting visitors," Alex said, his voice polite but firm. He didn' t move from his position in front of my door.

"This is ridiculous! Gabrielle! I know you can hear me!" she shrieked, her voice echoing in the corridor. "You let your brother get arrested! Your own brother! What is wrong with you? Are you that heartless?"

My father stood behind her, wringing his hands, looking miserable. He was a ghost, a man who had long ago surrendered his will to my mother.

"You need to give Brian money for a lawyer!" she continued. "And you need to give him a house! It' s your duty as a sister! Your money is our money! We raised you!"

The sheer audacity of it was almost impressive.

I pressed the intercom button. My voice came through the speaker in the hall, clear and amplified. "If you are not off this floor in sixty seconds, I will have you removed for trespassing, just like I did with Brian. I will also file a restraining order against all of you. Do you understand me?"

My mother' s face went pale with shock, then purple with rage. My father finally spoke, his voice a weak whisper. "Debra, let' s go. Please."

He tugged on her arm, and for once, she listened. Alex watched them until the elevator doors closed. He then gave a slight nod to the camera before resuming his post.

I sat on my new leather sofa, the silence of the condo a comforting blanket. I had drawn the line. Now I would see how hard they would try to cross it.

Brian was released after a night in jail, with a court date for vandalism and a temporary restraining order I had my lawyers file that morning. The family went quiet for a few weeks. I used the time to work, to settle into my new life, and to fortify my defenses, both personal and professional. I moved my personal assets into a series of complex trusts, making them untouchable. I reviewed my company' s security protocols. I was building a fortress, and I was the queen inside.

Then, on the eve of what was supposed to be Brian and Sabrina' s lavish wedding, my phone rang. An unknown number. I let Alex answer it.

"It' s your brother," he said, holding the phone out to me.

I hesitated. A tiny, stupid sliver of hope flickered inside me. Maybe the arrest had shocked him into some semblance of reality.

"Put him on speaker," I said.

"Gabby? It' s me," Brian' s voice was soft, apologetic. It was a tone I hadn' t heard since we were children. "Look, I know I messed up. I was an ass. I' m so sorry. Sabrina and I, we just want to make things right. We' re having a small dinner with her parents tomorrow night at a nice restaurant. To celebrate. It would mean the world to us if you came. Please."

I knew it was a trap. The logical, ruthless part of my brain screamed it. But the part of me that was once a daughter and a sister, the part that still remembered a time before the greed, wanted to believe.

"Where?" I asked.

He gave me the name of an expensive French restaurant downtown.

"I' ll think about it," I said, and hung up.

Against my better judgment, I decided to go. But I wasn' t going alone.