"Mom, this lobster's too tough. Get it from somewhere else next time."
Aiden spat a chunk of lobster onto the table, face twisted in disgust.
Sophie smiled and wiped his mouth. "Of course, sweetie. Whatever you want."
I stood frozen, watching the three of them enjoy their feast.
My mind went blank.
What the hell was happening?
Ding-dong.
Christopher's phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and frowned.
"What is it?" Sophie asked.
He snorted and tossed the phone back down. "Some idiot coworker of Daniel's. Asking why he didn't show up for work."
I flinched at the sound of my own name.
Sophie sliced into her steak, chewing lazily. "That kid's transfers have been getting slower. Used to hit the account right at the start of the month. This time he dragged it out till the end."
"Is he slacking off?"
Christopher blew out a smoke ring and scoffed. "He wouldn't dare. Sent him a video two days ago—told him the creditors had a knife to my throat. Scared him half to death."
"Kid's pathetic. Won't move unless you push him. Doesn't even know what he's capable of until you squeeze it out of him."
Aiden set down his phone. "Dad, when can I pick up my Ferrari? I've had my eye on that model forever. If we wait too long, someone else'll snag it."
"I already told my friends my dad's loaded. Said I'd be rolling up to school in a Ferrari any day now."
Christopher ruffled his hair, voice warm. "Relax. Soon."
"Once that idiot works himself into the grave, the insurance payout'll cover your new ride."
Something detonated in my skull.
I stared at Christopher's greasy face, unable to process what I'd just heard.
Sophie poured him a glass of liquor, giggling. "You really are the smartest man I know."
"First you moved all the assets and faked the bankruptcy. Then you put on that little self-harm performance to guilt the stupid kid into dropping out."
"We saved a fortune on his tuition, and now he's our free labor."
"And the best part? That accident policy—with Aiden as the beneficiary."
"The second Daniel dies, we keep every cent he ever earned and collect a massive payout."
Christopher's laugh was thick with satisfaction, the fat on his face jiggling.
"Damn right."
"That kid's just like his dead mother—a brainless idiot."
"Whatever I tell him, he believes."
"I say bankruptcy, he drops out. I say I'm jumping off a building, he goes and sells his soul."
"People like that are a waste of oxygen. Might as well die and do something useful for Aiden."
Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice.
It was all fake.
No bankruptcy.
No loan sharks.
No desperate circumstances.
Just a carefully designed con. And greed that sucked the marrow from my bones.
While I was getting drenched delivering food—too cheap to buy a two-dollar rain poncho—they were eating Australian lobster.
While I dropped dead on a stairwell trying to earn five extra bucks, they were planning how to spend the money from my corpse.
To them, I was never a son. Never family.
I was livestock.
A walking paycheck.
"Dad, what if he just… doesn't die?"
Aiden tapped his fork against his plate, impatient.
"He seems pretty healthy. Last time I checked his socials, he was still hauling cement at some construction site."
"If he doesn't die soon, how long am I supposed to wait for my Ferrari?"
