Chapter 57
[Alexander's POV]
My hand was still extended toward Lily, fingers trembling slightly as I waited for her to give me the pink savings card clutched against her chest.
Just a thousand dollars. That was all I needed. If I could just borrow—
"Alexander." Rose's voice cut through my thoughts like a blade, cold and precise in a way that made my stomach drop. "What do you think you're doing?"
I froze, every muscle locking up as she stepped between me and Lily. The look on her face—Jesus, it was worse than angry. It was disappointed, like she'd expected better and I'd somehow managed to crawl even lower than her already basement-level expectations.
"Rose, I was just—" The words stuck in my throat. What could I even say? That I was trying to borrow money from a four-year-old? That I'd stooped so low I was shaking down a kid who still believed in Santa Claus?
"You were just what, exactly?" Her eyes never left mine, and I felt pinned in place like a bug on a board. "Attempting to extract money from a four-year-old child? Exploiting her desperate need for family connection to access her birthday savings?"
The accuracy of that assessment hit like a physical blow. I took a step back, shoulders hunching defensively even as anger sparked in my chest. She had no right to make it sound so... predatory. I was going to pay Lily back, I swear I was, it wasn't like I was stealing from her or anything.
"It's not like that," I protested, hating how weak my voice sounded. "I was going to pay her back, I swear—"
"Borrowing implies mutual agreement between parties of equal power." Rose's tone remained clinical, like she was dissecting something under a microscope. "What you were doing is called predation. Targeting the vulnerable because they lack the capacity to refuse you."
Behind her, Lily's small voice emerged, tremulous but clear. "I didn't want to give it to him, Rose. But he said it was important..."
Shame burned up my throat, mixing with the anger until I couldn't tell which was which anymore.
"I needed—" I started, but Rose cut me off with surgical precision.
"For what? A video game? Designer sneakers? Some status symbol to maintain your crumbling social facade at school?" She watched me struggle for justification, and I could see the exact moment she realized I didn't have one. "Or perhaps you were planning to impress a girl, buy your way into relevance since your actual accomplishments offer nothing worth noticing."
"You don't understand," I muttered, but the fight had drained out of my voice. "I don't have access to anything anymore. No credit cards, no cash, not even my trust fund allowance. Christopher's frozen, which means I'm frozen by extension, and I just—"
"Needed money," Rose finished, her tone flat as asphalt. "So you decided the appropriate solution was to shake down a preschooler."
She gestured toward Lily without breaking eye contact with me, and I felt something twist in my chest when I saw how small Lily looked, how scared.
I couldn't look at either of them anymore.
Lily's fingers found the hem of Rose's blouse, and I heard the soft sound of Rose covering the kid's hand with her own. The gesture of protection—protecting her from me—made me want to disappear entirely.
"I wasn't thinking," I managed finally, the words barely audible. "I just... I needed..."
"You never think." Rose's voice had lost some of its edge, but the assessment still cut deep. "That's your fundamental problem, Alexander. You move through the world reacting, grasping at whatever seems easiest in the moment, never considering consequences or collateral damage." She paused, and I felt the weight of her stare even though I couldn't meet her eyes. "It's going to destroy you if you don't learn to stop."
I finally looked up, helplessness washing over me in a cold wave. "What am I supposed to do, then? I can't even afford lunch anymore. The guys at school are starting to notice I'm broke, and if they figure out the real reason—"
"Then they'll know you're not invincible," Rose interrupted with maddening calm. "They'll know that money and status can evaporate overnight, that your family name doesn't automatically exempt you from consequences."
Lily tugged on Rose's blouse, her voice barely a whisper. "Is Alexander in trouble?"
The question made everything worse somehow. Even after I'd tried to take advantage of her, this kid was worried about me. What kind of person did that make me?
Rose glanced down at Lily, something softening in her expression. "Alexander needs to learn how the world actually works. And sometimes that education requires experiencing real discomfort." She turned back to me, considering. "Come with me. Both of you."
I followed mechanically, Lily's hand still gripping Rose's while I trailed behind like some kind of criminal being led to sentencing. We ended up in the small library off the main hall, the one Grandpa used when he didn't want to deal with the formal study upstairs.
Rose settled into one of the wing chairs, pulling Lily onto her lap, while I hovered by the doorway wondering if I could bolt without making things even worse.
"Sit," Rose instructed, nodding toward the chair across from hers.
I sat, perching on the edge like I was ready to launch myself away at any second. My heart was pounding, palms sweating, every instinct screaming that whatever was coming next was going to suck.
"I'm going to give you a choice, Alexander." Rose's voice had gone neutral, almost businesslike. "One chance to demonstrate that you're capable of something beyond parasitic opportunism."
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What kind of choice?"
She leaned back, her gaze drifting around the room like she was thinking through how to phrase something. The pause stretched out, making my skin crawl with anticipation.
"Christopher's current difficulties have created a financial crisis that extends beyond his personal accounts," she began, and I felt myself tense. Where was this going? "The Sullivan family's public image has taken damage from the embezzlement scandal, from Christopher's association with the Brooks family, from the general impression that we've become sloppy and self-indulgent in our business practices."
I shifted uncomfortably. "What's that got to do with me?"
"I want to establish a scholarship program at Boston Preparatory Academy—substantial financial awards for students who demonstrate exceptional academic achievement, regardless of their family background." She paused, letting that concept sink in. "I need someone who knows the school, who understands what motivates students there, who's familiar with the academic standards and competitive environment."
My brain started connecting dots, and I didn't like where they were leading. "Wait, you want me to help set up scholarships? For other people?"
"I want you to design the entire program," Rose corrected, and something in her tone made alarm bells go off in my head. "Research comparable programs, establish criteria, set award amounts, create a comprehensive proposal." She leaned forward slightly, challenge creeping into her voice. "Unless, of course, you don't feel capable of handling such a responsibility. Perhaps I should ask Ethan Harrison instead—he certainly has more experience with academic planning."
My spine straightened reflexively, jaw setting with stubborn determination. No way was I letting that pretentious asshole Ethan get credit for a Sullivan family initiative. No fucking way.
"I can do it," I said, forcing confidence into my voice. "I'm not some idiot who needs help figuring out what matters in school."
Rose smiled, thin and sharp like a knife blade. "Excellent. Then I need a comprehensive proposal by tomorrow morning—specific award amounts, qualification criteria, selection process, implementation timeline. Everything."
I waited for her to mention payment, some kind of compensation for doing this work. When she didn't, I asked directly. "And what do I get for doing all this?"
Her smile widened fractionally. "You get to prove you're capable of contributing something useful to this family. You get to demonstrate that you're more than Christopher's waste-of-space younger brother." She paused, letting that sink in. "Consider it an opportunity to earn back some of the respect you've squandered."
The answer wasn't what I wanted, but the way she phrased it—the implicit challenge—made refusing feel impossible. Like if I backed down now, I'd be proving her right about everything she'd said.
"Fine," I muttered, trying to sound like this wasn't a big deal. "I'll have something by breakfast."
"I suggest you start immediately," Rose said. "Research the school's current academic standings, review similar scholarship programs at comparable institutions, consider what would genuinely incentivize excellence versus merely rewarding students who are already privileged." Her voice softened just slightly. "This is your chance to prove yourself, Alexander. Don't squander it."
The words stung, but underneath the sting was something else—something that felt dangerously close to hope. A chance to prove myself. A chance to show everyone I wasn't just the screwup they all assumed I was.
"I won't," I said, standing abruptly. Pride and determination warred in my chest, making my voice stronger. "You'll see—I can do this."
I hesitated at the doorway, something almost vulnerable breaking through my usual defensive shell. "Thanks. For... for giving me a chance, I guess."
"Don't thank me yet," Rose replied evenly. "Thank me when you've actually delivered something worth reviewing."
Fair enough. I left before she could change her mind or add more conditions, already pulling out my phone to start researching. My mind was racing, ideas starting to form about what would actually make a good scholarship program. What would motivate people? What would be fair? What would make the Sullivan family look good?
I took the stairs to my room two at a time, adrenaline pumping through my veins. This was it. This was my chance to show everyone—show Rose, show Grandpa, show Christopher—that I wasn't just some useless trust fund baby.