Chapter 3 – Blood and Old Debts
They came for me two days later.
Reginald Harrington Sr. marching into my office like he still owned the building.
Alex behind him, trying to look confident.
Reginald slammed his cane on my desk.
“You threw my grandson onto the street! Who the hell do you think you are?”
I didn’t stand.
I finished typing a sentence, saved the document, then looked up.
“I’m the majority shareholder,” I said. “That’s who.”
His face purpled.
“This company is Harrington blood—”
“Blood doesn’t sign contracts,” I said. “Shares do. And mine outweigh yours by a mile.”
Reginald leaned forward.
“He’s your son. Your only child. You’ll die alone if you keep this up.”
I let the silence sit.
Then I stood.
Slowly.
“You told me the same thing when I threw your son out for cheating,” I said. “Remember?”
Reginald’s mouth opened, closed.
I stepped around the desk.
“I didn’t compromise then. I won’t now.”
Alex found his voice.
“As soon as the board hears how you’ve treated family—”
“The board,” I said, “knows exactly how I treat betrayal.”
I nodded toward the door.
Security was already there.
Reginald shouted all the way down the hall.
Old threats.
Old grievances.
Alex saved his for last.
“You’ll lose everything,” he hissed as they dragged him past. “Just watch.”
I watched them go.
Then I sat down.
Picked up my phone.
Called legal.
“Prepare for whatever stunt they try next.”
I hung up.
Leaned back in my chair.
The city glittered beyond the windows.
I felt tired—not weak, just tired.
But the game wasn’t over.
Not even close.