I walked to the window, gesturing at the city below.

“Do you know why Cross Technologies is successful, William?”

“Because you have good products.”

“Because I remember being hungry. Because I remember being dismissed, overlooked, underestimated. Every person we hire, every deal we make, every product we develop, I asked myself if we’re creating opportunity, or just protecting privilege.”

I turned back to him.

“Your company represents everything I built mine to fight against, old money, protecting old ideas, keeping the door closed to anyone who didn’t inherit their seat at the table.”

“That’s not—”

“Isn’t it? Name one person on your board who didn’t go to an Ivy League school. One executive who grew up below the poverty line. One senior manager who had to work three jobs to put themselves through community college.”

His silence was answer enough.

“The merger is dead, William. Not because you insulted me, but because you showed me who you really are, and more importantly, you showed me who your company really is.”

“This will destroy us,” he said quietly. “Without this merger, Harrington Industries won’t survive the next two years.”

“Then maybe it shouldn’t.”

I headed for the door.

“Maybe it’s time for the old guard to make way for companies that judge people by their potential, not their pedigree.”

“Wait.”

He stood up so fast his chair tipped over.

“What about Quinn? You’re going to destroy his father’s company, his inheritance.”

I paused at the door.

“Quinn is brilliant, talented, and capable. He doesn’t need to inherit success. He can build his own. That’s the difference between us, William. You see, inheritance is destiny. I see it as a crutch.”

“He’ll never forgive you.”

“Maybe not, but at least he’ll know I have principles that can’t be bought or intimidated away. Can you say the same?”

I left him there and went back to my office. Danielle was waiting with a stack of messages and a knowing look.

“Fairchild Corporation wants to meet Monday morning. They’re very interested in discussing an acquisition.”

“Good. Make sure William hears about it by this afternoon.”

“Already arranged for the information to leak.”

“Quinn is in your private office.”

My heart skipped.

“How long?”

“About an hour. I brought him coffee and tissues.”

“How did he know to come here?” I asked.

“He called the office mainline asking for you. When I told him you were in a meeting with his father, he asked if he could wait for you. Given the circumstances, I thought you wouldn’t mind,” Danielle explained.

After leaving William in the conference room, I headed back to my private office where Danielle informed me Quinn was waiting.

I found him curled up in my desk chair, eyes red but dry. He looked up when I entered and I saw his father’s strength but his mother’s kindness in his face.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi.”

“I heard what you told him. Danielle let me watch on the conference room feed.”

I sat on the edge of my desk.

“And?”

“And I think—”

He stood up, coming to stand between my knees.

“I think I’d been a coward, letting him treat you that way, making excuses, hoping it would get better.”

“Quinn, no.”

“Let me finish.”

He took my hands.

“I’ve spent my whole life benefiting from his prejudices without challenging them. Last night watching him, I was ashamed. Not of me, of him, of myself for not standing up to him sooner.”