Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
What’s your game, Mother?
I dig deeper, fingers dancing across keys while lines of code reflect back at me. The transfer has Katherine Sterling’s digital fingerprints all over it—precise, calculated, and designed to look like a standard business transaction.
But I know better.
I know my mother.
And I know this has something to do with me.
With Salem.
With us.
My jaw clenches as the pieces start clicking together. Charlotte’s sudden appearances at every event. My mother’s increased pressure about suitable matches. This hidden payment looks suspiciously like a down payment on my future.
“Game on, Mother.”
Time to show her she’s not the only one who can play with family money.
The deeper I dig into the transfer details, the clearer the pattern becomes. Mother’s moved money before—usually to pressure board members or smooth over family scandals. No doubt this transfer comes with its own steaming pile of bullshit. The only difference is, this is personal.
“Let’s see what else you’ve been up to, Charlotte,” I mutter, pulling up her account history.
Her recent purchases paint me a very vivid picture: wedding magazines, country club memberships, appointments at the same society places my mother frequents.
All the pieces start to fall into place. She’s being groomed, for something … no, by someone, for their own personal agenda.
“Fuck.” The curse echoes in the quietness of my apartment. “What the fuck, Mother? You’re actually trying to buy me a wife?”
The sheer audacity of it would be impressive if it wasn’t so infuriating. Five million dollars to the Henderson family, most likely a down payment on some arranged marriage bullshit. Classic Katherine Sterling move—solving problems with money and manipulation.
My fingers hover over the keyboard as an idea forms. A terrible, wonderful, absolutely reckless idea.
“You want to play with money, Mother?” A grin spreads across my face as I start typing. “Then we will play.”
It takes exactly three minutes to set up the transfer. Child’s play really—I’ve been circumventing Sterling Banking security since I was a teenager. The amount matches Charlotte’s payment down to the cent.
Destination: Salem Masters’s checking account.
“Consider it digital karma,” I speak to my empty apartment, executing the transfer with a flourish. The money disappears from one of the family’s brokerage accounts. One I know my mother has notifications set up for.
Five million dollars.
The same amount she gave Charlotte now sits in my girlfriend’s bank account. Is this petty behavior? Logically yes. It’s exactly the kind of impulsive behavior my mother scolds me for, and it will most assuredly blow up in my face at some point, but it doesn’t matter. Not when the retribution feels this good.
Let Mother figure out how to explain this one.
Let her try to buy my future when I’m redistributing her wealth.
Let her—
My apartment door bursts open, and I damn near topple out of my chair.
“Lee Sterling!” Salem stands there, face flushed, silk gloves clenched at her sides. “Why is there five million dollars in my bank account?”
Well. That was faster than expected.
“Explain yourself, now. Before we have a really big problem. Bigger than the problem we currently have. How did you hack into my bank account?” Salem’s voice rises with each word as she storms into my apartment. “And the Sterling bank? Are you insane?”
I spin my chair to face her, trying not to smile at how adorable she looks when she’s angry. Her silk gloves whisper instead of squeak as she clenches and unclenches her fists, a sure sign she’s counting in her head to stay calm.
“Technically, I didn’t hack into your account,” I correct her with a playful smile on my face. “I just put money in it. There’s a big difference between the two.”
“Lee!” She starts pacing, exactly three steps in each direction. “I don’t care about technicalities. This isn’t funny. Do you know what your mother will do when she—”
“Finds out?” I interrupt. “She already knows.” I turn back to my monitors, pulling up the tracking program. “She checked the accounts four minutes ago. Probably right before you got that notification on your phone.”
Salem stops pacing. “You can see that?”
“I can see everything.” I shrug, trying to make it casual. “Been monitoring the family accounts since I was fifteen. It’s amazing what boring rich kids learn when they’re grounded from parties.”
“But …” She moves closer, peering at the screens. “I knew you did things on your computer, but I never imagined that it was anything like this. It’s illegal, Lee. You could go to jail.” Salem’s concern for my well-being makes my smile grow tenfold.
“I could, but I won’t. My mother would never press charges or do anything that would tarnish the family name further. She retaliates in worse ways. Reporting me to the police would be far too easy for her.”
“But why? What do you get out of this?”
“I get the satisfaction of her knowing that I sent that money to you and that there isn’t a damn thing she can do about it. It’s not nearly as bad as what she’s doing. Trying to buy influence with the Hendersons. She sent five million dollars to Charlotte to fucking buy me a bride. Using money to control everyone around her.”