Price Of Redemption

Michael's POV

I know my father’s trust was a thing I had spent, a currency I had no way of earning back with words alone. 

I'd burned this bridge a dozen times over—many failed business deals that had brought several furious disappointment from my father, stood between me and my chance at a redemption.

I knew the moment I'd try to make a mention of the word "business deal," his face would become a mask of fiery disappointment. 

A burning fever was shot up in my veins, a panic-stricken certainty that this was the one—a voice inside me, hot as a furnace, screaming that this could be my shot to gaining my father's trust back.  

This particular deal had a promised chance of erasing the memory of every past failure with a flood of new money poured into the family moneybox and, in doing so, to wash away the stain on my name too.

I felt my guts twisted with a powerful, consuming conviction, “this money is a sure way to pour millions into my family’s vault,” I whispered into the empty seats in my car, as I drove back home.

I tore through the city in my glistering Lamborghini, with country music blasting out from my speakers. 

My mind was a whirlwind, racing at the same speed as the speedometer needle clinched. 

Each thought filled with fear was consumed by a single, desperate task: how to package this deal, this last-ditch effort, into something my father might actually buy.

How could I even try? I'd gambled away his trust on a string of failures that had become a great wall between us. 

Was it the FX Capital deal, where I watched investors vanish with his $10 million? Or was it the one from last year, the one that made him finally turn his back on me for good, leaving me stranded in his shadow. 

I knew there was no way he'd hear me out after the incident that happened last. 

It was on a beach in South Africa I ran into Henry McPherson. I’d known him from Fox City, a shrugged-looking guy who had a knack for stealing the most beautiful girls in the Class. 

He told me he was into diamond smuggling, and then he preached those breathtaking words to me: a billion-dollar diamond for a quarter of the price. 

The numbers were so absurd they felt fake, but Henry's eyes held a feverish gleam, a confidence that felt real. 

The amount of money that I could make swam in my head, a seductive melody. He laid out the whole deal, a master of a sweet con, and he made sure to wine and dine me, buying me drinks, taking me to exclusive clubs, and paying for escorts. 

He was showing me the life that was possible, proving the deal's worth with every lavish expense. 

His actions painted a picture of success. I was hooked. I returned home determined to make the deal happen.

My flight touched down late, but I didn't waste a minute. My car was pointed straight for home, where I planned to lay out my case. 

After an exhausting round of discussions about Henry's business deal with my father, I finally managed to convince him to invest in the deal, a sum of $250 Million.

He leaned in, his voice a low, final warning:"Fail, and you never get anything again." He left me with no doubt that this was my final chance. 

I could tell from his voice that the transaction felt less like an investment and more like a final bet on a lost cause—me. 

I went straight to my mother, Esme, the keeper of the family's money, and demanded she wire the money into my account based on Finn’s command, which she did after confirming from him. 

I immediately wired the money to Henry, after getting off the phone with him. 

He swore the diamonds would get to Fox City by noon the next day. 

A sudden, reckless high consumed me, I sought out the Citadel. 

I had fun all through the night with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a smoke of cannabis in the other, celebrating a future that wasn't even here yet.

I headed back home in the early hours of the next day. It was around 3 a.m, and I was just going to bed. 

It was noon when I finally woke up—the whole morning had passed in a fade of sleep, and I immediately was filled with the anticipation of the diamonds that should have arrived. 

I waited all afternoon. By 4 p.m., a cold fright had begun to settle in. I called Henry, only to hear a tone that was both final and familiar: the number no longer existed.

Henry had fallen off the face of the earth, lost to the shadows. I tore through every corner of the earth looking for him, but he was gone.

I had lost my father's trust for good when it came to the family business. And what was I doing now? Risking everything on yet another jewelry deal from a ghost I barely knew.

This time, it felt different. A gut feeling told me this was real, a conviction I’d never had before. 

I’d done my research, vetted the source, and found a track record of success. The numbers were staggering—half a billion dollars for a diamond worth two billion—a chance too good to pass up. 

I saw my chance. This was the turning point, the one deal that would get my father's trust back. So I cut the corners and went straight to my mother, a risky move that felt like my only option.  

Esme's beauty was a lie. With her porcelain skin and radiant glow, belying the years she's lived on earth. 

She had the graceful look of a Wenston, but beneath it all, she held the treacherous venom of a Shelby.

I got to the house and went straight to my mother’s room, a knot of nerves tightening in my stomach. I asked her to have an early dinner with me at The Truth Restaurant.

She gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Dinner, Michael? You've never been one for pleasantries. What do you want?" She asked, her words were sharp, with her eyes never leaving mine.

I knew she was already wondering what I was up to.