Chapter 1

Five years ago, my first company went bankrupt. I was buried under a mountain of debt that felt big enough to block out the sun. It was the lowest point of my life. I thought, at the very least, I still had my family. I was wrong.

The day the bankruptcy was finalized, my parents, Martha and Richard Miller, called a family meeting. My younger brother, Kevin, was there too. I walked in expecting comfort, maybe a plan. Instead, I got a public execution.

"Ethan, we're done," my mother, Martha, said. Her voice was cold, without a trace of the warmth I'd known my whole life. "We can't be associated with this failure."

My father, Richard, nodded along, his face a mask of fake solemnity. "We've already transferred all our assets. Nothing is in our name. The debt collectors can't touch us."

"And we're publishing a notice in the paper tomorrow," Kevin added, a smirk playing on his lips. "Disowning you. Making it clear we have no relationship. It's just business, bro."

They left me there, in the shell of my old office, with nothing but debt and the echoing sound of their betrayal. For the next five years, I worked. I slept in a storage unit. I ate instant noodles. I took every coding job I could find, no matter how small. I clawed my way back, one line of code at a time.

Now, I stood on the balcony of my penthouse, looking out over the city lights. My second company, Phoenix Innovations, had just closed a nine-figure deal. I wasn't just back on my feet; I was flying higher than ever before. It was a victory that tasted sweet, but also lonely.

My phone rang. The screen showed an unknown number, but I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I answered.

"Ethan? Son, is that you?"

It was Martha. Her voice was thick with a syrupy, fake emotion that made my skin crawl.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my own voice flat.

"We saw you on the news! Your father and I are so proud," she gushed. "We knew you could do it."

I stayed silent.

"Listen, son," she continued, her tone shifting. "We've fallen on hard times. Your father's health... it's not good. We need a little help. Just to get by."

"How much?" I asked, already knowing this was a lie.

"Five million dollars would be a good start," she said, as if she were asking for grocery money. "And your father thinks it would be good for his health to have a small role at your company. Nothing strenuous. Maybe a Senior Vice President position?"

I almost laughed. It was so absurd, so shameless.

"And a new car," a voice mumbled in the background. It was my father. "A Mercedes. For my doctor's appointments."

"No," I said. The word was simple, clean, and final.

The line went quiet for a moment. Then Martha' s voice returned, sharp and venomous. "No? What do you mean, no? After everything we've done for you? We are your parents! You have a duty to take care of us!"

"My duty?" I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Let me remind you of something. Five years ago, you published a notice in the city paper. It said, and I quote, 'Ethan Miller is no longer a son of the Miller family. All his debts and affairs are his own.' You disowned me."

There was a sputtering sound on the other end. "That was... that was just to protect the family assets! A formality!"

"A formality," I repeated slowly. "Tell me, was it also a 'formality' when my father faked a heart condition to avoid talking to my creditors? I remember the doctor's report you forged. Funny how his 'illness' vanished the second the bankruptcy was settled."

"You ungrateful boy!" she shrieked. "We gave you life! You owe us everything!"

"I owe you nothing," I said, my voice as cold as steel. "You made your choice five years ago. Live with it. Don't ever call me again."

I hung up the phone and blocked the number. The city lights blurred in front of me. The peace I had fought so hard for felt like it was about to be shattered.