Chapter 2 - The Trap of Gold
A cold, heavy stillness settled over me.
Four years in Yellowknife had taught me how to read dangerous situations. In the bush, when an engine fails or a blizzard rolls in, panic kills you. Rage blinds you. You have to shut down your expression, evaluate the threat, and figure out who holds the leverage.
Right now, I held nothing.
I looked at the luxury house, the gold gate, the metallic-red truck, and the glittering jewelry on my mother's neck. Everything had been built and bought over the last four years while I was away. I knew, without asking, that the deeds to the house, the vehicle titles, and the primary bank accounts were all in Margaret and Paige’s names. I had trusted them implicitly, wiring money every month without demanding receipts or joint ownership papers.
If I exploded right now—if I screamed, attacked them, or demanded answers—they would lock the gates, call the police, use their status in town to label me an abusive, unstable husband, and throw Gwen onto the street to die.
I couldn't fight them with anger. I had to fight them with greed.
I slowly stood up from the dirt, forcing my face to relax into a look of exhausted, practical resignation. I rubbed the back of my neck, letting out a long, heavy breath.
"I see," I said, my voice deliberately flat, devoid of emotion. "It's... it's just a lot to process after a twenty-hour bus ride."
Margaret’s eyes narrowed slightly, inspecting my reaction. Seeing no violence in my posture, her shoulders relaxed, and a patronizing smile returned to her lips. "We know it’s a shock, Gavin. But we've been carrying the burden of taking care of her while you were away. You have no idea how difficult she’s been."
"I'm sure," I lied smoothly. "Look, I didn't just come home on a whim. The plant in Yellowknife... well, the company is restructuring."
Paige finally dropped her phone, looking up with sudden interest. "Restructuring? Did you get fired?"
"No," I said, stepping closer to them, lowering my voice as if sharing a corporate secret. "The opposite. The mining parent company bought out our local metalworking firm. Because I stayed on during the harsh winter shifts and took management duties, they're liquidating my vested shares and offering a severance buyout for northern service."
Margaret’s eyes glinted. "A buyout? How much?"
"It’s a compensation package," I said, looking her dead in the eye. "Cash, stock liquidations, and an equipment retention bonus. It comes out to nearly four hundred thousand dollars."
Paige gasped, clutching her phone against her chest. Margaret’s breath hitched, her greedy fingers tightening around her silk tunic.
"Four hundred thousand?" Margaret whispered, her patronizing tone instantly vanishing, replaced by a desperate, hungry warmth. "Gavin... my brilliant boy! Four hundred thousand?!"
"Yes," I lied, keeping my voice steady and calculated. "But there’s a catch. The corporate auditors are strict about tax residency. To release the wire transfer into a local account, I have to prove that I am a permanent co-owner of local family assets—properties, vehicles, and active family bank accounts. I have to show that the money I sent home over the last four years was integrated into registered family investments in my name."
Margaret and Paige exchanged a rapid, terrified glance.
I saw the exact moment the trap closed around their minds. They had spent over one hundred thousand dollars of my money, putting everything in their own names to exclude Gwen and me. But now, that very theft was standing between them and a four-hundred-thousand-dollar windfall.
"Well... of course!" Margaret said quickly, stepping forward to clasp my arm with her heavy, gold-laden hands. "Everything we built was for you, Gavin! The house, the truck—we just put them in my name temporarily to handle the local paperwork while you were up north! We can transfer the co-ownership deeds at the county clerk’s office first thing Monday morning!"
"Absolutely," Paige beamed, her attitude flipping instantly from cruel contempt to sugary affection. "We can add you to the truck title too! And once the buyout clears, Gavin, we really need to look into upgrading the F-250 to the Platinum trim, and maybe booking that family trip to the Bahamas we talked about!"
"We'll handle all the paperwork on Monday," I said, offering them a small, tight smile. "Right now, I'm dead tired. I just want to clean up and lie down."
"Of course, sweetie," Margaret said smoothly. "Go ahead inside. Paige, bring your brother a cold drink!"
Neither of them offered to help Gwen. She was still sitting in the dirt beside the broken china, silent, forgotten, and shaking.
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"I'll help her clean up the yard first," I said quietly, picking up my duffel bag. "Wouldn't want the tires on that new truck getting punctured by glass."
"Good boy," Margaret smiled, already turning back toward the grand house, pulling out her phone to calculate her share of four hundred thousand dollars that didn't exist.
