Dirty Working Hero (Hard Working Hero 2)

“Like hell I can't. Your father and I paid for your school, we support you, and without us, you'd have nothing.”

“You can't hold that over my head. I never asked to be a Chambers, and I never forced you to pay for anything. You both said it was fine. You both agreed!” I yell, slamming my palms on the table. I'm so angry. How dare she hold this over me like it's some kind of leverage. They're my parents, that's what parents are supposed to do.

What the hell is wrong with her? This is blackmail!

“We did. It doesn't mean we liked it, but like I said, you got your chance to do your thing. Now it's time for you to do the correct thing.” She lifts the mug to her lips casually, taking a short sip. “It's already been finalized. You start next Monday at the firm with your father.”

“What? No! You can't do this to me!” I'm seeing red. How dare she? How dare she try to act like my choices aren't good enough.

I know what I want with my life. I've known for a really long time that this is what I want to do. If I wanted to be a lawyer, I would have gone to law school. I chose to study agriculture in school, it's the only thing I've ever been able to choose. And now my parents want to take that from me, too.

“It's done, Millie. You're going to start at the firm, and next semester you'll start your law classes so you can wear our last name proudly. Being a Chambers comes with expectations, this is one of them.” She softly taps the ceramic mug with the sharp tips of her nails. She's so smug and demanding, it enrages me.

This isn't right. This isn't what parents are supposed to do to their kids. I'm not a mold-able piece of clay they can just smash down and reform into the person they want if they don't like what they see.

“And what if I say no? What if I refuse?”

She shrugs her shoulder, letting her gaze slowly move back to the window. “I guess that's your choice, then. But let me make myself very clear, if you don't do this, then there's no more money, no roof over your head, nothing. We'll cut you off completely.”

“What? That's insane!”

“No, insane is thinking that you could drive our name into the ground with an iron spike. You might be my daughter, but you won't be our downfall.”

“Do you even hear yourself? That's not right.”

“Being right is the least of my worries. There are consequences to your actions, Millie, that's how life works. You have two choices I suppose, let's hope you make the right one.”

My lips fold down angrily as I shove myself away from the table. I have nothing else to say to her. She made up her mind, no amount of yelling is going to change it. Every muscle in my body tightens from the anger as hot blood pumps through my veins.

I dump out the rest of the orange juice in my cup and drop the glass in the sink. It clinks loudly, and with so much force, there's a chance I broke it. But I don't care. I storm off, bursting through the double doors that lead outside.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

My mother says I have two options, but in reality, I really only have one. Without my parents, I have nothing. Yes, I have my degree, but that won't put a roof over my head or food in my stomach just yet.

Why would they do this to me? Why can't they just let me be me?

I stand in the backyard, my toes hitting the warm concrete, my face looking up at the sky, ready to scream at the top of my lungs. My blood is hot, percolating under my skin. A deep guttural scream sits in the back of my throat.

My parents want to control everything, right down to my future and who I am. They look down on anyone and anything that they don't think is at their level. Even me.

This is about keeping our name coated in a thick layer of gold. This is about not embarrassing them in front of their rich friends and famous clients. My father, his father, and every other Chambers before has been high class money.

If I follow my dreams, I'll stain their legacy. My parents will literally act like I peeled away the gold and dunked our name in mud. It's absurd, but I'm not surprised at all. I ignored the looks at dinner when I told my parents about how much I loved my botany class in high school. They rolled their eyes when I decided to dig up a small patch on our property to start a garden. And they disregarded every conversation about my passion, seeing it as a simple hobby or game.