Chapter 10 - MAISIE ASKS THE QUESTION
Maisie asked Clarissa’s question in a different way.
“Who gets your company when you die?”
Victor looked up from breakfast.
She ate cereal.
Christmas had passed.
The house finally quiet.
“What?”
“Everyone keeps talking about who gets things.”
Victor set down coffee.
“My company is not one thing.”
“That sounds like avoiding.”
Evelyn really had ruined his child.
“There are managers.”
“But who owns it?”
“Eventually, trusts and beneficiaries.”
“Me?”
“Some.”
“Julian?”
“Some from Daniel’s branch.”
“More?”
“Different.”
Maisie frowned.
“Do boys get more?”
“No.”
“Did they used to?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Victor thought.
“Because men wrote rules that made themselves important.”
She stared.
“That’s dumb.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t women stop them?”
“They often tried.”
Maisie took another bite.
“Will I be boss?”
Victor almost choked.
“No.”
She looked offended.
“Why not?”
“Do you want to be?”
“No.”
“Then why are you offended?”
“Because you said no too fast.”
Victor laughed.
Fair.
“You can choose legitimate work when you grow up.”
“What if I want to be a veterinarian?”
“Excellent.”
“What if Julian wants the company?”
“He can apply like an adult.”
“Apply?”
“Yes.”
Maisie smiled.
“That’s funny.”
That conversation changed Victor’s plan.
He had been reforming trusts but still assumed family ownership meant family leadership.
Why?
Habit.
He moved legitimate Santelli businesses toward professional governance.
Independent boards.
Qualified executives.
Beneficiaries received economic interest.
Not automatic command.
The old criminal operations attached to Victor’s reputation were already shrinking.
Now he accelerated exits.
No successor.
No child groomed to inherit fear.
His advisers called it risky.
Victor answered:
“So was Christmas dinner.”
Meanwhile Julian began counseling.
One session produced a statement he wanted Victor to hear.
“Mom told me if I didn’t act like the man of the family, Daniel would be ashamed.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“He never knew me.”
“No.”
“So how could he be ashamed?”
“He couldn’t.”
Julian nodded.
Then:
“I don’t want to be a man of the family.”
“What do you want?”
“Goalie.”
Victor frowned.
“Hockey?”
“Soccer.”
“Then goalie.”
Julian smiled.
His future became smaller.
Better.
Ruth found old videos of Andrew Mercer coaching Julian to ride a bicycle.
They watched.
Andrew ran behind.
Let go.
Julian pedaled.
Fell into grass.
Andrew laughed before helping him.
Julian cried.
Then laughed.
Victor watched.
This was fatherhood.
Not DNA.
Not trust clauses.
Bedtime doesn’t care about biology.
Daniel had been right.
Julian asked:
“Do you think Daniel would be mad I love Dad more?”
Victor looked at him.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he wrote it.”
Then Victor added:
“And because loving Andrew doesn’t take anything from Daniel.”
May you like
Julian smiled.
The exact lesson Clarissa never learned.
