My husband’s family spent the whole reunion insulting me — they laughed at my clothes, mocked my business, called me a burden, and said I’d never amount to anything without him. Then my jet landed…

Three years ago, Christopher’s firm acquired a sustainable energy startup founded by a woman named Mei Lin. Brilliant engineer, revolutionary battery technology. They promised to scale her innovation, then gutted her company, patented her technology, and pushed her out.

Classic vulture capitalism, she paused, watching a pair of birds chase each other across the park below. Two months later, she killed herself. The words hung between us, stark and terrible.

I’m sorry, I said, meaning it. I didn’t know her personally, Janelle continued, but I recognized what they did to her. It’s what the Prestons and Thompsons, do they consume what they can’t control? I stayed silent then.

I won’t make that mistake again. Her frankness stunned me. The Thompsons operated through insinuation and polite venom, never this kind of brutal honesty.

Your open source proposal, she continued briskly, professional mask back in place. Explain it to me like I’m not a tech person, because I’m not. I described the core concept, making basic financial tools freely available to anyone below a certain income threshold while keeping advanced features as premium services.

No technical jargon, just the human impact. So you’re essentially giving away your product to people who couldn’t afford it anyway, she summarized. Yes.

And in doing so, creating a user base so large that trying to crush us would be like trying to crush Wikipedia. She tapped manicured nails against the table, considering. Christopher will hate it.

He doesn’t understand anything he can’t own. That’s rather the point. For the first time, she genuinely smiled.

I’ll bring this to the board Thursday. We may not block the horizon acquisition entirely, but we can force conditions that prevent them from using it as leverage against you. Thank you.

She waved this away. Don’t thank me. I’m not doing this out of altruism.

The men who run these firms think they’re invincible because no one ever holds them accountable. I want that to change. As she gathered her things to leave, she paused.

One more thing. William Thompson called me yesterday. My stomach tightened.

What did he want? To warn me that you’re difficult and emotional. Her mouth quirked. I told him those were precisely the qualities I was counting on.

Two days later, as I waited for news from the Preston board meeting, Marcus found me in our home office, staring at my laptop without seeing it. Still no word? He asked, setting down tea beside me. I shook my head.

The meeting started two hours ago. He sat on the edge of my desk. I’ve been thinking about something my father said at dinner.

Which charming comment? When he compared your growth model to his early days, he wasn’t always… Marcus searched for the right word. A nightmare in human form? I supplied. He laughed.

That. Before he married my mother, he was actually known for being innovative, progressive even for his time. What changed him? Marcus considered this.

I think… success. Or rather, the fear of losing it. When you have something to protect, risk becomes your enemy.

That’s why we’re making the platform open source, I said quietly. So I never become that person. My phone rang.

Janelle. I put it on speaker. It’s done, she said without preamble.

The board approved the Horizon acquisition, but with conditions. They can’t leverage their market position to force acquisitions of competitors, and they can’t file patent infringement claims against open source financial platforms. I exhaled slowly.

That’s… exactly what we needed. Christopher is furious, she added, a note of satisfaction in her voice. He called me a traitor to my class, whatever that means.

It means you did the right thing, Marcus said. Marcus Thompson, she replied. The prodigal son himself.

How’s life among the revolutionaries? Better than country clubs and pretension. Good. Keep it that way.

She paused. One more thing, Aisha. William abstained from the vote today.

I… frowned. William Thompson was there? Why? The Thompson Family Trust owns 8% of Preston Investment Group. He’s not on the board, but he attended as a major shareholder.

She hesitated. After the vote, he asked me to tell you he’d like to meet. Just you, not Marcus.

I glanced at my husband, who looked as puzzled as I felt. Did he say why? No. But he seemed… I don’t know.

Different from what I expected based… on Vivian. After hanging up, Marcus and I debated what his father could possibly want. Family reconciliation seemed unlikely.

Business proposition? Possibly. Manipulation attempt? Almost certainly. You don’t have to meet him, Marcus said.

I know, but I’m curious. That’s what the cat said before satisfaction killed it. I smiled at his deliberate mangling of the idiom.

I’ll be fine. Whatever game he’s playing, I’m not the same woman who used to fear Thompson family judgment. William suggested meeting at his office rather than the family home.

A mercy I appreciated. The Thompson financial headquarters occupied 20 floors of a Manhattan skyscraper. Old money trying its best to look modern.

His assistant led me to a corner office with views stretching to the harbor. William stood as I entered, extending… his hand automatically before seeming to reconsider and offering a slight bow instead. The gesture was so unexpected, I almost laughed.

Thank you for coming, Aisha, he said, gesturing to a chair. Can I offer you anything? Just an explanation for why I’m here would be sufficient. He nodded, settling behind his desk.

In this environment, without Vivian’s social orchestration, he seemed different, more substantial, less performatively patrician. I owe you an apology, he began, startling me. One I should have offered years ago.

I kept my expression neutral, waiting. When Marcus first brought you home, I made assumptions based on… well, based on prejudices I’m not proud of. I judged… your background, your ambition, your directness, qualities that, ironically, I would have admired in a man.

The admission hung between us. I’d imagined dozens of scenarios for this meeting, but sincere apology hadn’t made the list. What changed? I asked finally…