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At the Thanksgiving dinner, I wouldn't spill any details about my job since I'd signed a permanent non-disclosure agreement, and I refused to cover my gambling-obsessed cousin's one-million-dollar debt. I'd just sent my parents 30,000 dollars as a Thanksgiving gift when my dad smashed his glass, shards flying everywhere. "If you can't even tell us what your real job is, you must be cheating or scamming people. "I'm afraid even holding that dirty money will bring me bad luck!" My mom wiped her tears and chimed in, every word cutting deep. "Stop pretending. How could you make that much money out of nowhere? You must have gone astray. You have no sense of dignity or self-respect at all. "Eric is the only son in our family. If you won't help him, who will? If you really can't, just go have a few meals with the casino owner. Maybe he'll clear the debt and arrange a cushy job for Eric." I thought about the three-million-dollar riverside villa registered under my parents' names, the thirty-thousand-dollar Thanksgiving dinner I'd paid for, the gift money that instantly got forwarded to Eric, and the picture of the casino owner with that thuggish face. Whatever tiny shred of hope I had for family melted away. On the spot, I called my real estate lawyer to take back the ownership of the villa and canceled the unlimited transfer privileges I'd given them. Since they thought my money was dirty, from now on, they wouldn't get a dime.