He walked over to the server rack and touched the cold metal.

“I want to start at the absolute bottom,” he said. “Let me be an intern. Let me pack boxes, run cables, or clean the solar panels.”

“You have an MBA from Stanford,” I said.

“And it taught me how to read spreadsheets, not how to build a business,” he said. “I want to earn my place here. If you give me a desk and a high salary, Mother wins. She’ll say you’re just supporting me.”

I looked at my brother.

He looked younger than his twenty-six years, but there was a new hardness in his expression that I hadn’t seen before.

“It won’t be easy,” I said. “The team here doesn’t care about our family name. If anything, they will suspect you’re a spy for our mother.”

“Let them suspect me,” he said. “I’ll prove them wrong.”

I stared at him for a long moment, weighing the risks.

If I brought him on, our mother’s attacks would only intensify.

But if I turned him away, I would be leaving him alone in the dark.