And now my father was standing in my robe, drinking my liquor, telling me to sleep with the staff.
I walked back inside.
The main salon was cool and spotless, carrying faint hints of leather, citrus cleaner, and expensive cologne. I had chosen every detail myself: the furniture, the artwork, the finishes. The Sovereign was not just a luxury vessel. She was my livelihood and my reputation.
Four oversized suitcases sat in the center of the room.
My older brother James lounged across the sofa like he had always belonged there, bare feet resting on my coffee table, scrolling lazily through his phone.
He looked up and smirked.
“Not bad, V. A little cold, but I can fix that.”
“Get out,” I said.
He blinked.
“James. All of you. Off my boat. Now.”
My mother stepped out of the hallway, drying her hands with one of my private towels.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “We’re family. There’s plenty of room.”
“This is a business vessel,” I said evenly. “You are trespassing. If you’re not gone in five minutes, I’m calling the harbor authority.”
“And what exactly will you tell them?” my father asked from behind me. He walked to the bar and poured himself more of my scotch as though he owned the place. “That you’re throwing your elderly parents onto the dock after everything we did for you?”
He stepped closer, crowding my space the way he always had.
“We raised you,” he said. “Fed you. Put a roof over your head. You think all this success is just yours? It belongs to the family. We invested in you. When one child succeeds, the family benefits. That’s how it works. Now we need something back.”
