The only sound was the rain beating against the front door.

“You’re bluffing,” Eleanor said, though her voice lost a fraction of its steel.

“I am resigning as Chief Executive Officer of Whitmore Capital, effective immediately,” I said.

“Adrian, don’t be a fool,” Eleanor snapped. “The stock will plunge. You will lose billions.”

“I don’t care,” I said.

“I am forfeiting my voting shares to a blind trust,” I continued. “With no active CEO from the family, the bylaws dictate that the board must initiate a public sale within thirty days.”

Celeste’s face turned pale.

She knew what that meant.

Her family’s investment in Whitmore Capital would be frozen during the transition.

The prestige she had married me for would vanish overnight.

“You wouldn’t,” Celeste whispered. “Your entire life’s work.”

“My life’s work is upstairs,” I said, pointing to the ceiling.

I looked at my mother.

“You wanted the firm to be your legacy, Mother,” I said. “But without me, there is no Whitmore Capital. You have no leverage over me anymore. You have nothing to threaten me with.”