Chapter 3Mother, Aged

That evening, I came home to the rare and welcoming aroma of a home-cooked meal.

Chloe, wearing an apron, emerged from the kitchen carrying a steaming pot of soup.

“David, you’re back! Go wash up. I made your favorite mushroom and chicken soup to help you de-stress.”

She smiled so warmly, it was as if yesterday’s ugliness had never happened. Against my better judgment, the last ember of warmth I felt for her began to glow again.

Maybe she was just overly principled, not malicious. Maybe this was just the friction of marriage.

I was about to say something to smooth things over when she produced a document from behind her back and placed it on the table in front of me.

“Honey, I need you to sign this first.”

It was an Equity Pledge and Unlimited Personal Guarantee.

My pupils contracted.

She pointed to a clause. “A friend of mine has a new renewable energy project. The potential is enormous, but it requires a lot of upfront capital. I want to invest fifty million from our fund, but they need your credit backing and personal guarantee as a partner at the firm.”

I flipped directly to the last page and saw the company’s name.

“HelioCore Renewables?” I looked up at her. “This company just got a risk advisory warning from the SEC last month. The founder, Zara, served time three years ago for securities fraud.”

The smile on Chloe’s face faded. “David, you can’t be so one-dimensional. Higher risk means higher reward. Zara doesn’t have a criminal record; she has experience.”

“So you want to gamble our entire net worth on a convicted con artist’s new venture?”

She took a deep breath. “This is an investment! It’s for our future!” She suddenly smiled again, her voice softening into a purr. “How about this? You sign the papers, and I’ll call the realtor right now. We’ll get your mom that apartment she wanted. Better yet, I’ll pay for three years’ rent upfront. And I’ll throw in a top-of-the-line shiatsu massage chair and a ten-thousand-dollar bonus for her. How does that sound?”

Baiting me with my mother’s $800 rent to sign a contract that could bankrupt us.

What did she take me for?

A dog that could be bought with a bone?

I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and pushed the contract back across the table.

“Chloe, do you know what my legal specialty is?”

She froze.

“Corporate bankruptcy and liquidation,” I said, looking her dead in the eye. “I’ve seen countless investors just like you, blinded by greed, who ended up losing everything, right down to their underwear.”

Her face turned to stone. “David, don’t be a fool! I’m trying to elevate us to the next level!”

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and a cruel smirk touched her lips. “Your uncle just called me. I ignored it. He’s probably calling about your mother’s apartment. I suggest you reconsider. My patience is wearing thin.”

Before she even finished speaking, my phone lit up. It was a picture message from my uncle.

It was my mom, sitting alone on the dusty steps of her building’s stairwell, her head bowed, her silhouette a portrait of loneliness.

Beneath the picture was a line of text.

David, your mom’s leg is acting up again. She’s in too much pain to leave the apartment. It’s a shame, son. You’re making millions, but you can’t even spare a little for an elevator for her. The whole family is talking…

My heart seized, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.