Page 1 of Sugar Pie
1
Warren
The helicopter circled the beach house of my adopted parents as I read the market report and recommendations.
It was my twenty-eighth birthday, which meant it was time to go home.
The pilot hovered over our helipad, and I knew that I would soon be swept into the only family I remembered.
My birth parents had died when I was four, but once in a while, they haunted my dreams. I always wanted to see how they viewed the world and whether my life would have been different if they were alive.
I filed my papers away as the helicopter landed then unbuckled my seat belt as the blades slowed.
Once the pilot gave the signal that it was safe, I let myself out and followed the trail to the Virgin Isle beach home where I’d spent most of my summers when we weren’t in Manhattan.
The second I made it to the patio, the lights inside the house went out. I was absolutely sure they were going to yell “surprise!”—it was my birthday, and Maman had insisted that I show up. I wiped my feet and left my shoes at the door, which had been one of my first lessons in Persian culture when I first met them—good boys and girls do not mess up the rugs.
As I closed the door behind me, my mother, Roxanne Norouzi, held out her arms and pulled me into a hug. “Glad you could make it.”
“If I skipped my birthday, you’d never forgive me.”
She then brushed my reddish-blond hair off of my forehead and made the face that meant I should have cut it, though neither of us said a word. I walked into the main house beside her.
She took my arm and directed us though the dark room. “You’re getting too old to be single.” She was relentless and had already succeeded with a few of us.
“You should enjoy having your new daughters-in-law from Joel, Arman, and Cyrus. You don’t need one from me.”
She massaged my shoulder as if I was a petulant child and moved me toward the dining room. “I want to see you happy and settled.”
“Happy birthday!” my entire family shouted when we entered.
I glanced around and saw my Pedar, the trillionaire known to the world as Parvis Norouzi. Beside him was my adopted brother, Joel, and his wife, Kendal, who stood next to the full-blooded son and oldest of the family, Arman, his wife, Maddie, and their daughter. Next to Arman was Cyrus, another biological son, and his wife, Sarah, and their little boy laughed together. Elon, Gerard, and Kir stood in a circle, leaving a place for me. Elon, Gerard, and I were adopted at the same time and were all the same age as Kir, who had been born a Norouzi. To the side stood Charles, Jeff, Roman, and Xersus, the youngest of our family members. We were a mix of ethnicities, all brought together as one family.
My brothers were honestly my only friends and the only people other than my parents for whom I would drop everything.
Pedar handed us all champagne glasses then handed me a paper. The year before, it had been a deed to a yacht with my name on it, and we’d all sailed to meet for the holidays on our new family island.
I unfolded the paper and rocked on my feet. It wasn’t a deed but a seat on the board of his trust with the payout being one-twelfth of his estate. My eyes widened. “What’s this?”
My father smiled and patted me on my back. “It’s not your present, but you’re the one who never asked. And Maman thought you should read it. It’s a copy of my will.”
I’d done nothing in my life to deserve a trillion dollars. My heart beat faster. “Why?”
The only man I’d ever thought of as a father gazed at me with his warm brown eyes. “I thought it was time you, Joel, Elon, Gerard, Charles, Jeff, and Roman know it’s final that all my children are equal, just as Maman and I have said since you came home. Arman, Cyrus, Kir, and Xerses were all in agreement.”
I handed him the will as quickly as I could. “I don’t want your money.”
Kir, the financial genius among the sons, quickly said, “One-tenth of it is over a trillion.”
Even divided among us, it wasn’t for me. I swallowed hard. “I… can’t accept.”
Pedar shrugged and guided us to the table for my birthday dinner. “I’m not dying any time soon, so don’t worry about it.”
I went to my seat but puffed out my chest. It was time I showed my family and myself that I had the power inside me to do things on my own. Otherwise, I would never accept the cash. Maybe I shouldn’t even have taken the education, career, or helicopter rides that seemed normal to me.
I wasn’t born into privilege. I remembered that much as I said, “No. I need to prove myself worthy.”
My mother passed a carafe of black tea around the table. “What are you talking about?”
