Chapter 3 - THE MIDNIGHT THREAT
At 2:07 a.m., my phone buzzed again. This time it was my father, his voice thick with gravelly fury and alcohol. “You think you’re smart, locking your mother and sister outside in the damp air like stray dogs?” Dad hissed through the speaker. “You open this house right now, or I swear to God I will call every investor, client, and board member at your firm tomorrow morning. I’ll tell them how unstable you are, how you abuse your wealth, and how you abandoned your own flesh and blood. We’ll ruin your career before the sun comes up, Aurora.”
I stared at the ceiling of my Seattle apartment, feeling a cold wave of clarity wash over me. For years, I had believed my family’s blackmail was a private tax I had to pay to keep the peace. By threatening my professional livelihood over a trespassing lockout, my father had crossed from emotional manipulation into explicit extortion. “Go ahead and call them, Dad,” I replied, my voice dangerously steady. “Every single investor knows my work ethic, and every single email you send will be forwarded straight to my corporate legal team as documentation for criminal harassment and extortion. Make your call.” I hung up and immediately forwarded the call log and threat transcript to my corporate attorney.
