The corporate fallout had been brutal, public, and decisive.

Armed with the security audio and Marcus Vance’s frantic confession to the authorities in exchange for a lighter sentence, Preston dismantled his father’s shadow network inside the company.

Conrad Waverly was forced into a disgraced, closely monitored early retirement, legally barred from company grounds or contact with the board. The empire was Preston’s again, but he governed it differently now.

The boardroom was no longer his sanctuary. His family was.

“She’s smiling,” Preston mouthed through the glass, looking up, his face glowing with a joy that billions of dollars could never buy.

I smiled back and pressed my open palm flat against the cold glass.