Chapter 1 - THE SOUND OF BREAKING GLASSThe sound was sharper than Aaron Whitcomb expected.
CRACK.
For half a second, the entire valet entrance of Bellavere, one of Beverly Hills’ most expensive restaurants, seemed to freeze.
Eight-year-old Milo Whitcomb stood beside his father with a small plastic toy launcher still raised in both hands.
A tiny foam projectile lay on the pavement.
Across from him, the passenger-side window of a black supercar had fractured into a glittering web.
Milo’s face went white.
“Dad…”
Aaron stared at the window, then at the toy in his son's hands.
“Milo.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.”
Twenty minutes earlier, Milo had spent almost all of the money he had saved from birthday gifts on the toy. Aaron had offered to buy it for him, but Milo had insisted on paying for part of it himself.
Now the boy looked as though he wanted the pavement to swallow him.
A man standing beside the supercar spun around.
He was in his thirties, sharply dressed in a black shirt and expensive watch. A valet had been holding the driver's door open for him.
“What the hell was that?”
Aaron immediately stepped forward.
“I’m sorry. My son accidentally—”
The man looked at the shattered window.
Then at Milo.
His face changed.
“You little idiot!”
Milo flinched.
Aaron's expression hardened.
“Hey. He made a mistake. I’ll take care of the damage.”
But Chase Barron barely seemed to hear him.
He strode toward Milo.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?”
Milo backed up a step.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“You’re sorry?”
Chase pointed violently toward the car.
“That window costs more than everything you're wearing.”
“Chase,” one of the valets said cautiously.
Chase ignored him.
Aaron moved closer.
“I said I’ll cover it.”
Chase's eyes flicked over Aaron’s gray polo, faded jeans and ordinary sneakers.
Something dismissive appeared in his expression.
“You’ll cover it?”
“Yes.”
Chase laughed once.
It wasn't amusement.
It was contempt.
Then Milo whispered, “I really didn’t mean to break it.”
Chase turned toward him again.
“You need to learn not to touch things you can't afford.”
Before Aaron realized what he intended to do, Chase raised his hand.
The slap landed once across Milo’s cheek.
A flat, ugly sound.
Milo did not fall.
He simply froze.
His toy dropped to his side.
His eyes filled with tears.
Aaron was between them almost instantly.
He didn't shove Chase.
He didn't swing.
He simply placed himself directly in front of his son.
“Never touch my son again.”
His voice wasn't loud.
That somehow made everyone nearby become even quieter.
Chase's chest rose.
“Your kid just damaged my car.”
“And I already told you I would pay for it.”
“Then pay.”
Aaron glanced back.
Milo touched his cheek.
That movement changed something in Aaron's face.
The valet nearest them looked uncomfortable.
Several diners at the restaurant entrance were now watching.
Chase seemed to enjoy having an audience.
“You know what kind of car this is?”
Aaron looked at the black machine.
“I know what a car is.”
Someone nearby covered a laugh.
Chase didn't.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
Aaron turned back to Milo.
“You okay?”
Milo nodded, but tears had begun sliding silently down his cheeks.
Aaron crouched.
“You didn't deserve that.”
“But I broke—”
“You caused damage. That's something we fix.”
Aaron wiped beneath Milo's eye with his thumb.
“That doesn't give an adult permission to hit you.”
Milo swallowed.
Aaron stood again.
Chase folded his arms.
“Great parenting lesson. Now let's talk about my window.”
Aaron looked at the damage.
“Get an estimate. I’ll pay the legitimate repair cost.”
Chase laughed.
“Legitimate?”
“Yes.”
“You really have no clue, do you?”
Aaron waited.
Chase stepped toward him and lowered his voice just enough to make it more insulting.
“That glass is custom.”
“Okay.”
“Imported.”
“Okay.”
“You could probably sell your house and still not cover what you just let your kid destroy.”
The crowd shifted.
Milo looked at his father.
For the first time, embarrassment began replacing fear.
“Dad…”
Aaron heard it.
Not fear about the car.
Fear that he had ruined something their family could never fix.
Chase saw it too.
And smiled.
“Maybe next time don't buy your kid toys you can't control.”
Aaron said nothing for several seconds.
Then he looked straight at Chase.
“What about the slap?”
Chase blinked.
“What?”
“You want me to take responsibility for my son's mistake.”
“Obviously.”
Aaron nodded.
“I agree.”
Then his eyes went cold.
“So what responsibility are you taking for yours?”
Chase stared at him.
And laughed.
“You're serious?”
“Yes.”
Chase glanced at the crowd, as if Aaron had just delivered entertainment.
“You should worry less about my hand and more about finding enough money to fix my car.”
Aaron slipped one hand slowly into his back pocket.
Chase smirked.
“Going to show me your checking account?”
Aaron opened his wallet.
“No.”
May you like
His fingers closed around a matte-black card.
“But we can settle the window first.”
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