“You don’t fund us,” I said. “We turned down your firm’s offer three weeks ago.”

“An offer is never truly dead until the papers are signed elsewhere,” Helen said. “And since your brother has decided to act like a petulant child, I have to ensure our family’s interests are protected.”

Derek stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the phone in my hand.

“I’m right here, Mother,” he said, his voice deep and steady.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

“Derek,” Helen said, her tone shifting to one of cold disappointment. “You are making a massive mistake. The position at the firm is still open for you. Your father and I have spent years building a path for you.”

“Your path is a golden cage,” Derek said.

“Don’t be dramatic,” she snapped. “It is a highly respected investment firm. You would be a partner in five years.”

“By doing what?” Derek asked. “By helping you squeeze the life out of actual innovators? By stealing intellectual property like you’re trying to do right now?”