Chapter 6 - The Final Account
I looked from the portfolio up to my brother’s eyes. For years, I had craved this exact moment—the moment where he would have to beg for the crumbs from the table he had denied me. But now that it was here, I didn't feel anger. I didn't feel vengeance. I felt only a quiet, absolute clarity.
"I won't talk to Emmett, Nicholas," I said, sliding the portfolio back toward him untouched.
Nicholas's face fell, a look of pure despair washing over him. "Jenna, please... we're family."
"Family is the word you use when you want a favor, Nicholas. But at that wedding, family was the excuse you used to humiliate me," I replied, my voice steady and firm. "I won't talk to Emmett because Emmett doesn't make the decisions for the communications and marketing divisions anymore. I do. It’s my division."
Nicholas blinked, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "So... you can approve the contract?"
"I could," I said, standing up and walking over to the grand window overlooking the harbor. "But I won't. Your firm’s logistics model is outdated, your administrative costs are bloated, and your leadership is based on vanity rather than value. I run this division based on performance, not nepotism. If your company wants to bid for our regional distribution, you will submit your proposal through the standard online portal like every other vendor. And your application will be reviewed by my assistant."
Nicholas stood frozen for several seconds, the portfolio clutching against his chest. He looked at the quiet sister he had tried to hide at the kids' table, and he finally understood that the hierarchy had changed forever. The girl who had drawn dragons with green flames for preschoolers was now the one holding the fire.
"I understand," he whispered hoarsely. He turned around and walked out of the executive suite, the glass doors shutting silently behind him.
A moment later, the connecting door to the adjoining boardroom slid open. Emmett walked in, carrying two cups of coffee, a proud, brilliant smile playing on his lips.
"You handled that like a true CEO," he said, handing me a cup.
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"I handled it like a writer, Emmett," I smiled, taking a warm sip. "I just made sure the ending was structurally sound."
We looked out over the city together as the sun began to set, casting a golden light across the endless towers of glass and steel. The perfect image my family had spent years trying to build had crumbled into dust, but the empire I was building now, alongside people who saw my value from the very beginning, was destined to last forever. I was no longer hidden, I was no longer silent, and the story from here on out belonged entirely to me.
