Richard’s lips peel back. “Pathetic.”
“No,” I say, with finality. “Liberating.”
I straighten and nod once to Caleb.
Caleb slides a third folder across the table toward Darren.
Our final offer.
Clean.
Direct.
No loopholes.
No outside involvement.
No Simone.
No Richard.
I say, “Here is the only offer Northwell will make going forward. Take it or leave it. But understand this, if you choose him…”
I gesture once toward my father.
“…you’re choosing instability, fraud, and a partner who will burn your company to keep himself warm.”
Darren’s gaze flicks between us. He looks like a man realizing he’s been negotiating inside a trap.
He hasn’t answered yet.
He won’t. Not in front of everyone. He’ll validate. He’ll assess. He’ll make calls.
But the seed is planted, and Richard knows it.
Richard’s voice turns low and lethal. “You think you can threaten me.”
I look at him, and for once, I let myself feel it.
Not rage or hurt, but clarity.
“I’m not,” I say. “I’m informing you.”
Simone finally speaks; voice pitched with entitlement. “Julian...”
I don’t even glance at her.
But she keeps going, because people like Simone mistake proximity for power.
“What about what we had?” she says, and the room shifts, like everyone feels the cheap attempt at narrative.
I finally look at her, and I let her see exactly what she is to me.
Nothing.
“You need to learn how to respect yourself more,” I say coldly. “Because if you think this was anything other than my father using you, you’re dumber than you look.”
Her face flushes bright red.
