And I meant it.
In 48 hours, none of this would matter anyway.
Amanda hesitated, then hugged me quickly.
“I’m glad you’re doing okay, even if it’s just, you know, coding stuff.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just coding stuff.”
Raj and I retreated to the bar.
“That was unexpectedly wholesome,” he observed.
“Amanda is not terrible. Just easily influenced.”
“Unlike you, who is completely immune to family pressure.”
“I’m here at the hotel bar during a wedding I wasn’t invited to, preparing to ambush my family with my net worth on Monday. I’m definitely not immune.”
“Fair point.”
We ordered another round. Through the bar’s entrance, I could see the corridor leading to the ballroom. Guests moved back and forth, heading to the bathroom, stepping out for air, checking their phones. My mother passed by once, but didn’t look our direction.
At 6:47 p.m., everything changed.
The bar had a large flat-screen television mounted above the bottles, usually showing sports or news with the sound off. It had been on CNN all evening, closed captions running beneath images of politicians and international events.
Then the screen changed.
Breaking news.
Fintech startup valued at $280 million.
My photo filled the screen.
It was from the Goldman Sachs pitch meeting. Professional headshot. Confident smile. Looking every inch the successful tech CEO.
I froze.
“Uh,” Raj said. “Ethan.”
The closed captions were running.
Goldman Sachs announces major investment in Fintech Solutions, a machine learning company revolutionizing trading algorithms. Founder and CEO Ethan Morrison, 28, has built the company from a dorm room startup to a $280 million valuation in just five years.
“They announced early,” I said stupidly.
“They announced early,” Raj confirmed. “During your cousin’s wedding.”
On screen, they were showing our office building, clips of Goldman Sachs executives, a graph of our revenue growth.
Then back to my photo with text underneath.
Ethan Morrison, Fintech Solutions, $280 million valuation.
“We need to go,” I said, standing up.
But it was too late.
My mother appeared in the bar entrance. She was staring at the television, her face slack with shock. Behind her, my father, my aunt, my uncle. More family members crowding the doorway.
Then Amanda pushed through, looked at the screen, looked at me, and said, “Holy—”
“Language, Amanda,” my mother said automatically, but she was still staring at the television.
The bartender, bless him, turned up the volume.
“Remarkable success story,” the CNN anchor was saying. “Morrison dropped out of business school five years ago to pursue this venture, facing significant family opposition. Today, his company serves over 60 major financial institutions and processes more than $50 billion in daily trading volume.”
“Ethan,” my mother’s voice was very small. “Is that you?”
I looked at her, at my father, at all of them crowded in the doorway, staring between me and the television screen.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s me.”
“But you’re… you said you were… we thought…” My mother couldn’t seem to finish a sentence.
“I know what you thought,” I said quietly.
On the television: Goldman Sachs calls it one of the most promising fintech investments of the decade. Morrison’s algorithms have achieved a 94% accuracy rate in predicting market movements, leading to an estimated $12 billion in client returns over the past three years.
My father found his voice.
“You’re worth $280 million.”
“The company is valued at $280 million,” I corrected. “I own 62% of it. So personally, I’m worth about $174 million, plus my real estate holdings and other investments, so closer to $190 million total.”
The silence was deafening.