"My parents are farmers. They make a living with their own hands—honest work, not stealing, not scheming." I spoke slowly, deliberately. "They raised me, paid for my schooling, never shortchanged me. Never shortchanged Ryan either. If you look down on them, you're looking down on me."
"Don't try to use that kind of talk to pressure me!"
Mrs. Lambert slapped the armrest and cut me off.
"So what if I look down on them? What I said is the truth!"
"This liquor was bought by my son, and this five million dollars will definitely be handled by my son!"
"Give it to your mom and dad? That's like throwing meat to a dog—gone forever!"
"Enough!"
I raised my voice. My chest heaved with anger, my gaze locked onto the man who'd been silent the whole time.
"Ryan, you're just going to sit there? Your mom talks about my parents like that, and you don't say a word? Our plan, our promises—what do they even mean to you?"
Ryan had nowhere left to hide. He finally lifted his head, his face twisted into something ugly—the look of a man ready to burn it all down.
"Joy… what Mom said… isn't completely wrong. This money came out of nowhere. Our original plan… maybe it really does need some adjustments."