His family thought choosing the golden son would leave Ethan with nothing. He walked away and built a life on his own. Five years later, the tables had turned.

I pushed the second sheet across the conference table, and Blake’s fingers slowed as he reached it.

He read the opening line once.

Then again.

The confidence he had carried into that boardroom did not disappear in some dramatic flash; it tightened into concentration as he realized the meeting could not move the way he had expected without my cooperation.

My father leaned forward.

“What exactly is this supposed to be?”

I kept my hand on the edge of the yellow folder.

“It’s what you should have read before assuming I came here for something from you.”