Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of the Vance Dynasty
Tyler froze, his hand hovering in mid-air. The color drained from his face entirely, leaving him looking like a ghost caught in broad daylight.
“Intentional?” he whispered, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “What do you mean, intentional? You... you cut off our accounts? You cut off my parents?”
“I cut off the parasites,” I corrected him, standing up slowly from my stool. I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the panoramic view of Central Park below. “For four years, Tyler, I have funded your family’s entire lifestyle. I paid your father’s medical bills, your mother’s property taxes, your brother’s car, and your endless string of failed tech startups that went under because you didn't have the work ethic to run a lemonade stand.”
Tyler’s mouth dropped open. “We’re a family! That’s what families do! They support each other!”
“No,” I turned around, my eyes locking onto his with razor-sharp intensity. “That’s what enablers do. They write blank checks while the people taking their money laugh behind their backs and treat them like dirt.”
“That’s not true!” Tyler shouted, taking a desperate step forward. “My family loves you! Okay, fine, maybe Mom can be a little difficult sometimes, and maybe the guys had a few too many drinks at the lake house and got carried away with the pool joke, but—!”
“A joke?” I interrupted, my voice rising sharply, echoing off the high ceilings of the penthouse. “They threw me into freezing water while you stood there smiling and filming! And your mother called me a useless cash cow to my face! And you expect me to sit here and pretend it was just a harmless prank?”
Tyler ran a hand through his matted hair, his breathing growing ragged. “It was just high spirits, Liv! You’re blowing this completely out of proportion! You have millions of dollars! What’s a few thousand here and there to keep the peace?”
The sheer entitlement in his voice made my blood run cold. Millions of dollars. Money I had earned working eighty-hour weeks as a senior vice president at a tech conglomerate, building my career from the ground up while Tyler slept until noon and played golf on my dime.
“It’s not about the money, Tyler,” I said quietly, stepping right up to him. I was shorter than him, but at that moment, I felt ten feet tall. “It’s about respect. And you and your family proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don't have an ounce of it for me.”
Tyler stared down at me, his chest heaving. The desperate pleading in his eyes suddenly curdled, replaced by the ugly, instinctive anger of a spoiled child who had finally been told no.
“You think you’re untouchable just because you have a fancy job, don't you?” Tyler snarled, his voice dropping into a harsh, venomous whisper. “Without me, you’re just a lonely corporate drone living in a glass box. Who’s going to love you, Liv? Who else would put up with your cold, obsessive workaholic personality?”
I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. I just smiled—a cold, pitying smile that cut him deeper than any insult could have.
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“At least I’m alone with my own money, Tyler,” I replied smoothly. “You’re about to find out how hard it is to survive in this city when you actually have to work for a living.”
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