Full part: My mother-in-law showed up at my restaurant with 38 friends and announced, “Order the most expensive things. I’m treating everyone today,” even though she knew she had no intention of paying. Instead of throwing them out, I looked at the manager and said, “Serve them everything.” Three hours later, when she saw the $23,289 bill and the folder I placed on the table, she stopped smiling.

Then one of her friends asked:

“And Lucas? I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

Beatrice leaned toward them as if she were about to share the best gossip of the year.

“My son is doing better than ever. He even has a beautiful young girl who has him completely smitten.”

The room fell silent.

So did I.

Beatrice burst out laughing.

“Oh, don’t make those faces. Camilla is never home. She lives here at the restaurant. Besides, Lucas knows how to have fun.”

Another woman asked:

“And with what money?”

Beatrice raised her glass.

“With money from this restaurant, of course. In the end, everything stays in the family.”

I remained standing behind

her, completely still.

For three months, I had been investigating strange withdrawals from my business account.

Hotels.

Gifts.

Transfers.

Debts that Lucas had never explained to me.

But until that moment, I hadn’t known something much worse: