Chapter 9 - The Jensen Curse
The words echoed in the small study like a gunshot.
Nathan turned to look at me, confusion warring with shock in his eyes. “Erin... what is he talking about? What curse?”
I couldn't answer. My breath came in short, shallow gasps as memories I had buried long ago rose to the surface of my mind—whispers heard through the heating vents late at night between my parents, hushed phone calls from my aunts in Vermont, the strange, heavy silence that always surrounded my uncle Thomas who had died before I was born.
“He’s lying,” I choked out, though my own voice sounded hollow even to me.
“Am I?” Dennis asked, taking a slow step forward. “Arthur spent his whole life running from it. That’s why he took my money without a second thought—because he knew his own family tree was rotting from the roots up. He knew that no matter what Nathan did, your side of the bloodline was destined to run dry of men. And he was terrified that if Nathan ever found out, he’d blame you for failing to give him what his trust demanded.”
Nathan grabbed Dennis by the lapels of his wool coat, slamming him back against the bookshelf with a crash that rattled the glass doors.
“Shut your mouth,” Nathan hissed, trembling with rage. “If you ever talk about my wife—if you ever imply that any of this is her fault—I will tear up that partnership agreement, burn the building down to the ground, and walk away from every penny you ever earned.”
Dennis didn't flinch. He looked down at Nathan’s hands gripping his coat, a faint, pitying smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Go ahead, boy,” Dennis whispered. “Try to walk away. But check your bank accounts first. Because as of four o'clock this afternoon, your father-in-law’s estate went into probate, and the primary lienholder on your home isn't the bank anymore. It’s my holding company.”
Nathan’s hands slowly lost their grip on Dennis’s coat. He stumbled back a step, staring at his father in absolute horror.
“You... you foreclosed on us?” Nathan whispered.
“I protected my assets,” Dennis corrected smoothly, straightening his collar. He walked past us toward the doorway, pausing only to look back over his shoulder. “You have forty-eight hours to clear your things out of the house, Nathan. And Erin? Congratulations on the new baby. Truly. You’re going to need all the strength you can get.”
The front door slammed shut behind him.
May you like
The silence that followed was heavier than anything I had ever experienced. Nathan slid down the side of the mahogany bookcase, burying his face in his hands as the reality of what his father had done crashed down around us.
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