My stepmother handed me a trash bag of my clothes and said, “Your father is d;ea;d, and the house is mine. Get out.” She slammed the door in my face while her kids laughed from the window. I was eighteen, broke, and alone. She thought that was the end of the story. She didn’t know my father had left a separate, secret will in a safety deposit box that only I had the key to. Ten years later, I bought the company she worked for. Today, I’m going to walk into her office and ask her the same question she asked me: “How does it feel to lose everything?”

“I have all the money,” I corrected. “My father’s trust activated last week. Combined with my own portfolio… well, let’s just say I could buy this company ten times over and burn it down for fun.”

Victoria tried to rally. She smoothed her hair, a desperate, reflex action. A smile—tremulous and fake—plastered itself onto her face.

“Julian, darling!” she stammered. “I… I knew you had it in you! That night… it was tough love! I had to push you! Look at you now! I made you who you are!”

I laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound that echoed off the glass walls.

I walked around the desk, invading her personal space, forcing her into the corner.

“You’re right,” I whispered. “You taught me that mercy is a weakness. You taught me that family is a lie. And you taught me how to take out the trash.”

I reached for the phone on her desk.

“Security to the Director’s office,” I said. “Bring a box.”

Chapter 5: The Echo of the Past

Two security guards entered the room. They were large, impassive men.

I reached under the desk, where I had placed a bag I brought with me.

I pulled out a box. Not a cardboard file box.

A box of Hefty trash bags.

I tossed the roll onto her desk. It knocked over her nameplate.

“Today, I’m going to ask you the same question you asked me,” I said, watching her trembling hands clutch her pearls.

“How does it feel to lose everything?”