Chapter 5
I confronted Patrick alone.
No capos.
No Malcolm.
No Declan.
Just father and daughter.
He looked smaller without an audience.
“I made you boss.”
“Yes.”
“I trusted you.”
“For a while.”
His jaw tightened.
“You changed too much.”
“Say the real thing.”
He stared.
I waited.
Finally:
“I thought leadership would make you harder.”
I almost smiled.
Instead:
“It made me clearer.”
“That’s not the same.”
To him, hard meant familiar.
Punishment.
Hierarchy.
Fear.
Men at the top.
Children learning early who mattered.
I had broken too many of those expectations.
Then Patrick said something I did not expect.
“After Finn was born, you stopped being mine.”
I stared at him.
There.
The family wound beneath the power struggle.
Not organization.
Possession.
Before Finn, I was still Patrick’s daughter.
Even as boss.
After Finn, my primary loyalty visibly changed.
I left dinners early.
Refused overnight meetings.
Moved my private residence farther from the main estate.
Built a nursery where an old strategy room used to be.
Small things.
Apparently my father experienced them as abandonment.
“You thought Declan stayed more loyal.”
“He stayed close.”
“Yes.”
Because Declan needed Patrick’s approval.
I did not.
That difference became political.
“What did Malcolm offer you?”
Patrick looked ashamed.
“Nothing for me.”
“Then why the trust payment?”
“For Brielle.”
He believed his granddaughter needed security if Declan eventually took command.
The payment made the plan feel like protection instead of sabotage.
He could tell himself he endangered Finn to provide for another grandchild.
Family accounting.
One child traded emotionally against another.
I looked at him.
“Did you know Brielle would be asked to move the mat?”
“Yes.”
“And remove Finn’s foot?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did you remove the clip?”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
There.
No Malcolm.
No Declan.
Patrick’s hand.
My father crouched beside my son before the event and removed his safety clip himself.
Then watched him climb.
Then laughed when he fell.
My stomach turned.
“Why laugh?”
Patrick started crying.
“I needed people to believe it was nothing.”
That sentence ended something between us.
Not love.
May you like
Something simpler.
Trust.
