At My Sister’s $5 Million Wedding, My Father Poured Wine Down My Dress and Called Me a Pathetic Spinster on the Microphone. I Made One Phone Call
My father was shaking.
His overlooked, disappointing daughter had just, in a wine-stained gown, in the corner of his golden ballroom, calmly redirected the fate of a continent’s markets without raising her voice.
“Valerius Dynasty,” Thaddeus the elder whispered, and there was something close to fear in it.
“You’re the Ghost of Wall Street.”
“I am,” I said.
Chapter 17 — We Share Genetics
“But you told us you were a clerk,” my mother said, and now the tears came, tears of shock and thwarted control spilling down her powdered cheeks.
“You let us believe you were nothing.