Chapter 3 - The Cold Reality
By December 28th, Ellie and I were back in Austin.
My life in Texas was vast, sleek, and quiet. My custom-built home overlooking Lake Travis was a sanctuary of glass, warm wood, and endless light—a world away from the toxic, suffocating atmosphere of my childhood home in Indiana.
My daughter was playing happily in the sunny garden with her nanny, completely recovered from Christmas night, her laughter echoing through the trees.
I was sitting in my glass-walled home office, sipping black coffee, when my private phone rang.
The caller ID displayed: Kenneth Brennan.
I let it ring three times before picking up and pressing speakerphone.
"Lucia!" my father’s voice boomed through the speaker, tight, furious, and laced with panic. "What the hell is going on down there?"
"Good morning, Dad," I said calmly, taking a slow sip of coffee. "How is Indiana?"
"Don't give me that pleasant tone!" he shouted. "I just got a registered letter from some high-end law firm in Chicago called Sterling & Vance! They claim the property trust that holds our home deed has revoked our lease! They said our utility subsidies are canceled, and a tow truck just pulled up to take the Cadillac!"
In the background, I could hear my mother crying hysterically. "Kenneth! Tell them they can't take the truck! My groceries are in the back!"
"Listen to me, Lucia," Dad demanded, his voice cracking with rage. "I know you work in tech and know people who deal with computers. I need you to call your lawyer friends or whoever handles this stuff and fix this glitch immediately! Some automated scam company is trying to steal our house!"
"It isn't a glitch, Dad," I said quietly.
The line went dead quiet for five seconds.
"What did you say?" he rasped.
"Vanguard Operations isn't a government pension trust, Dad," I explained, leaning back in my leather chair. "It's a private subsidiary of Nexus Cloud Solutions—a seventy-one-million-dollar technology firm that I founded, own, and operate as sole CEO."
"You... what?"
"For eight years, every dollar that paved your driveway, built your granite kitchen, paid for Mom's clothes, and put thousands of dollars into your bank account every single month came directly from my 'computer business,'" I continued, my voice smooth as silk. "I funded your entire retirement quietly because I thought it was my duty as a daughter."
"Lucia... you're lying," he stammered, his bravado instantly crumbling into deep confusion. "You dropped out of school! You didn't have anything!"
"I built an enterprise cloud infrastructure company, Dad," I said. "And on Christmas night, when you humiliated my daughter and threw us out into the snow, you proved to me that my kindness was completely wasted on you."
"Lucia, wait!" Mom’s voice broke through the line, grabbing the phone from my father. "Lucia, baby, please! We didn't know! Your father was just stressed about the tablecloth! You know how he gets!"
"I do know how he gets, Mom," I answered softly. "And you sat there at the table, stared at your plate, and let him bully a five-year-old child. You chose his cruelty over your granddaughter."
"Lucia, please!" she begged.
May you like
"The foreclosure process begins in thirty days," I said coldly. "If you want to keep the house, you'll need to purchase it from my corporate trust at market value—six hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Have a good afternoon."
I ended the call before she could reply.
