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 as 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.» She paused. «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 main line asking for you. When I told him you were in a meeting with his father, he asked if he could wait for you,» Danielle explained. «Given the circumstances, I thought you wouldn’t mind.»
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…»
«Nope. 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.»
«What are you saying?»
«I’m saying that if you’ll have me, I want to build something new with you, without my family’s money or connections or conditional approval.»
I pulled him close. «Are you sure? He’s right about one thing. Walking away from that inheritance is no small thing.»
He laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound I’d heard in days. «Zafira Cross, you just terminated a $2 billion merger because my father disrespected you. I think we’ll figure out the money part.»
«I love you,» I said, meaning it more than ever.
«I love you too, even if you did just declare corporate war on my father.»
«Especially because I declared corporate war on your father.»
«Especially because of that,» he agreed, kissing me.
My phone buzzed. Danielle again. «Ma’am, William Harrington is holding an emergency board meeting. Our sources say they’re discussing reaching out to you directly over his head.» I put the phone on speaker.
«Tell them Cross Technologies might be willing to discuss a merger with Harrington Industries under new leadership. Emphasis on new.»
Quinn’s eyes widened. «You’re going to oust my father from his own company.»
«I’m going to give the board a choice: evolve or perish. What they do with that choice is up to them.»
He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. «He won’t go quietly.»
«I wouldn’t expect him to.»
«This is going to get ugly.»
«Probably.»
«My mother will cry.»
«Definitely.»
«My sister will write another terrible song about family drama.»
«God help us all.»
He smiled, and it was sharp and beautiful and a little bit dangerous. «So when do we start?»
I smiled back. «How about now?»
And that’s how the nobody dating the prince became the queen who toppled the kingdom. Not with a sword or an army, but with a simple truth. Respect isn’t inherited. It’s earned.
And those who refuse to give it when it’s earned, well, they learn the hard way that sometimes the «garbage» takes itself out—and takes everything else with it.
By the following Monday, William Harrington was no longer CEO of Harrington Industries. By Tuesday, Cross Technologies had announced a merger with the newly restructured company.
By Wednesday, Quinn had accepted a position as our new head of strategic development, turning down his father’s offer to fund a rival venture out of spite.
And by Thursday? Well, by Thursday, William Harrington had learned the most expensive lesson of his life: Never call someone garbage unless you’re prepared to be thrown out with it.
Six months later, Quinn and I were engaged, with plans for a small ceremony far away from his father’s social circle. William hadn’t spoken to either of us since his removal as CEO, though Quinn’s mother called weekly, slowly rebuilding their relationship on new, more honest terms.
