Ethan turned around, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

His expression was flat, but I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching.

“You are not leaving,” he said.

“Richard has the board behind him, Ethan,” I said, stepping closer to him. “If you fight him on this, it will only make things worse for you at the company.”

“The company is mine,” he said.

“Not all of it,” I reminded him. “You told me yourself that Richard controls the voting shares of the executive committee.”

Ethan did not answer.

He walked back to the desk, his leather shoes clicking against the polished hardwood floor.

Suddenly, the phone on the desk began to buzz, its vibration sending a low hum through the wood.

The caller ID displayed a single name: *Richard Cole.*

Ethan stared at the screen for a three-second count before he slid his thumb across the glass and answered.

He did not put the phone to his ear; instead, he pressed the speaker button.

“Ethan,” Richard’s voice boomed through the quiet office, sharp and devoid of warmth. “I assume you received the resolution.”