Page 36 of Where We Began

- Chapter 15 -

Laiken

“I'm guessing your daddidn't wake up one day and just decide to open a bank.”

We're sitting in the library. He looks out of place, like the chair is too small for him. When he was a teenager, he could have fit three of himself there and had room to spare.

“My grandfather started it, not Dad,” he says. “He built it from scratch. It was amazingly hard work, I imagine. Tech has made everything easier.” He considers me, suddenly curious. “Did you ever learn what Joseph did for my father?”

Playing with my braid, I nod. “System hacking. He explained it before I really understood. I had to research it myself to grasp the details.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “You researched it?”

“Don't act so shocked. You were the one who impressed on me how little I knew aboutmodern things.”I wave my fingers in a set of air-quotes. “With all these books, and all my free time, I did what I had to.”

What I don't say is how I clung desperately to his instructions, because they'd come from him. I'd trusted Dominic. I'd believed his every word. If he thought I had to read about computers or social events or dinner etiquette, than I did it. Sometimes regretfully, but I never left a book unfinished.

His full lips push together then go soft. I stare too hard—I'm eager to seeanyhint of something soft about his existence. “You know what hacking means,” he says. “Did you know the extent of how he utilized it for Silas?”

I squeeze my hair. “Not exactly. But I don't need to. I just want to get the ins and outs of the basic—”

“He stole information.” Dominic sounds like a dragon purring. “Anyone that they could blackmail, they did. Anyone they could manipulate, they did. If there was a rival bank handling foreign transactions, your father leaked their clients' info until that company shut down for sloppy security. What he did gave Silas a shortcut from the middle to the top.” Hunching forward, he sneers. “You can't replicate that.”

His deluge of info throws me off. I knew that my dad was doing questionable stuff, bad enough that he couldn't go to the police for help, but this... this is insane. “He really blackmailed people?” I ask.

“Silas did the blackmailing, Joseph provided the ammunition. Neither of them has clean hands.” He pushes his muscled shoulders up. “It's not uncommon to do most of your deals in the shadows. It's modern day assassination.”

“My dad didn't kill anyone,” I snap. “He's not a damn murderer.”

Dominic avoids my eyes. His fingers spread on the table, the tips white as he presses them against the wood. “You're confident he wasn't responsible for anyone's deaths? Imagine an investor balancing on the edge of ruin. Your dad's tricks destroy his savings, his spirit, and his life. His wife leaves him. His family turns their backs. Is it hard to picture someone brought so low ending their own life?” The whole time he's talking, he's putting his weight on the table. I can't look away. I'm holding my breath, my lungs warning me to quit it and provide some oxygen.

OfcourseI can see the awful picture he's painted.

But I don't want to.

The burning shifts upwards, attacking my eyes until wetness builds. I barely keep the tears at bay. My head is full of images—my father and mother laughing, my brother asleep, my sister chasing me in the woods. I've been brought low. Iknowhow devastating it is to lose it all. But to take my own life, I don't know if I could. Wouldn't everyone I love be terribly sad?

I start to shake; I hug myself to stop it. “Do you think my family is okay?”

Dominic puts his hands on the chair's arms. “Don't waste time worrying about them. Worry about yourself.”

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