The light from a thousand crystals sparkled overhead as waiters in black tie weaved expertly through Boston’s elite. My father’s 80th birthday celebration was exactly what he’d always valued: excessive, exclusive, and calculated to impress. I smoothed the wrinkles from my modest navy dress—the nicest thing in my wardrobe, but painfully understated among the designer gowns and heirloom jewelry adorning the other guests.
The subtle scent of my mother’s favorite perfume, the only luxury I permitted myself, felt like a shield against the suffocating cloud of wealth that hung in the air. “Catherine, you actually showed up.” My sister Victoria air-kissed near my cheek, close enough that I caught the scent of expensive bourbon on her breath. Her diamond earrings caught the light as she pulled back to examine me with barely concealed disappointment.
“We didn’t think you’d make an appearance. Did Melissa convince you?”
“Hello to you too, Victoria,” I said, taking a reluctant sip of champagne that tasted too sweet against my dry throat. “Yes, my daughter believes in family obligations, even when they’re uncomfortable.”
Melissa appeared at my side, squeezing my arm in silent support.
At thirty-three, she navigated these waters with more grace than I ever had, her natural warmth creating a small buffer against the cold calculation that permeated the Blackwood family gatherings. “Grandfather’s about to give his speech,” she whispered. The room quieted as my father took center stage, leaning slightly on a polished ebony cane that looked more like a prop than a necessity.
At eighty, Walter Blackwood remained an imposing figure—six feet of sharp angles and cold determination, his silver hair perfectly styled, his custom suit hanging impeccably from shoulders that refused to bow with age. “Thank you all for celebrating this milestone with me,” he began, his voice carrying the same authoritative tone that had closed billion-dollar deals and crushed countless competitors. “A man’s eightieth year gives him perspective on what truly matters.
Legacy.”
The word hung in the air like a judgment. I felt my stomach tighten. “I’ve built an empire worth fighting for, worth preserving,” he continued, sweeping his gaze across the room before settling it on my brother Alexander and sister Victoria, who stood taller under his attention.
“And I’m blessed with children who understand the value of what I created.”
A server passed with a tray of champagne, and I reached for another glass, needing something to occupy my hands. “Alexander, Victoria, come join me.”
My siblings moved forward like courtiers approaching a king. “These two have expanded the Blackwood legacy beyond my wildest dreams.
They understood sacrifice, ambition, vision,” my father’s voice swelled with pride, “which is why today I’m announcing the division of my estate: approximately thirty-nine million dollars in properties, vessels, investments, and liquid assets—between them.”
Applause rippled through the crowd. I remained still, my face carefully neutral, despite the familiar sting. Melissa’s hand found mine and squeezed.
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