“I know,” Liam replied. “But the company needs to pay its debts. And I need us to be equals.”
I looked at the check for a moment.
Then I tore it in half.
Liam’s eyes widened. “Sophia—”
“I invest in people,” I said, dropping the pieces into recycling. “Not bank accounts.”
Later, when he asked about Arthur, I laughed.
“He’s in Boca Raton,” I said. “He called to complain his golf club dues went up. I think he’s learning what a budget is.”
We stood by the window looking out at the city.
They called me a gold digger because they were guarding a small pile and assumed everyone else was hungry for scraps.
They never considered the possibility that I owned the mountain.
And the real power wasn’t the billions.
It was the ability to walk away from the table—because you already won the game before they even realized you were playing.
