Chapter 6 - BROOKE LEARNED WHO PAID HER RENT
Brooke came to my temporary apartment in Cherry Creek.
I had moved out of the penthouse while the immediate safety issue and separation were being handled.
Not because Grant owned it.
Because I did not want to sleep in the room where Ryan had restrained me.
The distinction mattered to me.
Brooke stood outside holding an envelope.
“Can I come in?”
I almost said no.
Then:
“Ten minutes.”
She sat at the kitchen island.
“Mom told me.”
“Which part?”
“The money.”
She looked ashamed.
“I thought Ryan was paying my rent.”
“He was arranging it.”
“With your money.”
“Yes.”
Brooke wiped her eyes.
After her divorce two years earlier, she had left Chicago and moved to Denver.
Ryan told her:
“I’ll cover you until you’re stable.”
$3,200 per month.
Eighteen months.
Then reduced support.
She believed her brother paid.
“I thanked him constantly.”
I said nothing.
“I barely thanked you.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I also sat at that table.”
There it was.
Brooke looked down.
“Why didn’t you help me?”
She cried.
“I thought you were provoking Dad.”
“By doing what?”
“You were arguing about Ryan’s access.”
“So?”
“Ryan told us you were trying to cut him off from his own money because you were angry.”
I stared.
“His money.”
“I know.”
“Did you think the penthouse was his too?”
“Yes.”
Brooke looked sick saying it.
She believed Ryan’s company—Bennett Strategic Advisory—had become hugely successful.
It had not.
Ryan earned well.
Roughly $210,000 a year.
Respectable.
Not enough to support:
parents,
sister,
luxury penthouse,
high-end travel,
large parties,
and himself.
Nobody did the math.
Because the image felt better.
“What’s in the envelope?”
Brooke slid it toward me.
A check.
$20,000.
“What is this?”
“Part of what you paid for me.”
“I don’t want it.”
“Claire.”
“I gave that money voluntarily.”
“You didn’t give it to me.”
I stopped.
She was right.
I gave it to Ryan to help Brooke.
Ryan gave Brooke a different story.
“Keep it.”
“Why?”
“Because rebuilding your life is expensive.”
She looked at me.
“You’re still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Making it easy for everybody.”
That hit.
Brooke continued:
“Maybe I need to pay something back just because I need to know I can.”
I looked at the check again.
“Then pay five thousand.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Keep fifteen. Pay five.”
Brooke laughed through tears.
“Why five?”
“Because it annoys both of us.”
She smiled.
We agreed.
Before leaving, Brooke said:
“Dad still thinks Ryan bought the penthouse.”
“Even now?”
“He says your LLC is just paperwork.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course.”
Then Brooke’s expression changed.
“Mom told me something else.”
“What?”
“Ryan didn’t start telling Dad the penthouse was his after you got married.”
My stomach tightened.
“When did he start?”
May you like
“Before.”
Ryan had been building his version of our life before I became a Bennett.
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