Page 109 of The Paradise Problem

The ones that leaked years ago tell a story of a teenage boy building a technology for his family company and ostensibly using it to spy on employees. The remaining, confidential documents tell a story that is much, much worse. “What are you talking about?”

Dad laughs once, delighted. “I had you either way, kiddo.”

I stare, unseeing, at Anna’s painting as it all sinks in. If Alex hadn’t melted down in public and revealed that my marriage to Anna was bullshit—conveniently taking himself out of contention for the CEO position at the same time—then Dad would have threatened to release more PISA documents, knowing I’d lose my faculty position, knowing I’d struggle to find a job anywhere.

He would have used leverage no matter what. He had me completely cornered, and he knew it this whole time.

“Do you even want me in the role?” I ask him. “Or did you just not want to lose?”

“Come on. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” I ask. “If you pin the full truth of PISA on me, I’ll be ruined.”

“At worst you’d have to do some damage control.”

“At worst? At best I do damage control. At worst I’m destroyed, Dad.”

“What the fuck does it matter, Liam? I’m not releasing PISA because you’re going to be the good brother and protect the trust. You’ve already said yes.”

I blink into focus, looking up at Freesia 2. I see Anna in every single stroke of the paintbrush, every wild, vibrant streak of color. When I close my eyes, I hear her infectious giggle, remembering the way her eyes shone with victory every time she made me laugh….

Is your name really West Weston?

That diamond is the size of my nipple.

I swear I blacked out after one particularly delicate part of the Brazilian. At one point they had me get on my hands and knees…

I let my mind wander away from my father and back to that moment of unbridled joy when Anna slapped her silicone bra onto the shoulder of my jacket. When she looked me in the eye and told me our night in the pavilion kitchen had been the best night of her life. When she stared up at me with infatuation and lust in our bed, as the hours blurred past…

And I remember how she looked answering the door that morning barely two weeks ago. Pantsless, baked, a rumpled mess. She was stressed, but she was glowing. She was unemployed, but she was still fighting. She was penniless, but she was living.

She wasn’t ever afraid to start over, again and again.

I’m your ride-or-die, West Weston.

I am the only one here offering you unconditional support and love—and I’m not even asking you to choose me.

She wanted me to choose myself. Because we both knew—and I did know, deep down, no matter how hard I’d deny it—that no one else in my family would put me first.

I open my eyes, electricity shivers through me, and I find myself saying aloud, “My answer is no.”

There’s a shocked pause. “What did you say?”

“I said no. Unless you resign immediately, I’m not coming on.”

“You’re choosing this path? You’re choosing to be obliterated?”

“If you genuinely wanted me as CEO for your father’s company and not for some power porn bullshit, then you wouldn’t obliterate me.”

He laughs once, knife-sharp. “This is the biggest mistake of your life.”

For a reverberating second, terror washes me out, makes me feel lightheaded. But whatever instinct kicked the words out of me takes over again. “Do your worst, Dad. It won’t change my mind.”

Thirty-Three

ANNA

Dad has gained a few pounds. Even though I couldn’t tell just by looking at him, I can feel it when I lean on his shoulder—something I haven’t done in what feels like an eternity. But by the time I reach the part of the story where we’re at LAX and Liam pulls me aside, making our last interaction also a transaction, Dad gusts out a breath and urges me to rest my head there while I finish the whole saga.

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