What Power Looks Like Up Close
Mom arrived next, carefully dressed for the moment.
She stopped short at the wall of screens.
“You negotiated with the prime minister?” she whispered.
“One of six today.”
“Richard’s company is requesting an emergency meeting,” Marcus added.
“Tell them to schedule properly,” I said. “Family dinners don’t count.”
Dad finally spoke. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I turned.
“You never asked. You dismissed it.”
“You told me to get a real job.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “Ma’am, the G7 leaders are waiting.”
Dad blinked. “The G7?”
“Yes,” I said. “Running the world’s largest tech company tends to involve governments.”
I paused at the door.
“Oh, Mom — the country club?”
“I bought it this morning.”
“You can keep your membership. Family discount.”
And I left.
The Takeaway
Sometimes the best revenge isn’t proving people wrong.
It’s letting them discover just how wrong they were — quietly, all at once, over expensive wine.
Power doesn’t announce itself.
It waits.
