“You wanted an accessory,” I said. “You wanted someone to sit at the end of the table and look pretty while you signed away your soul.”

He winced.

The rain outside grew heavier, drumming against the glass.

“That’s not true,” he said.

“It is,” I said. “And now you’re realizing that without me, you look like a cold, isolated man who let his best friend rob his company blind.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching.

He knew I was right.

The board didn’t just fear the financial loss; they feared the optics of a failing leader.

“I have a meeting with the executive committee at four,” Elias said.

He looked at his watch.

“That is in twenty minutes.”

“You should prepare your statement,” I said.

“They want me to take a leave of absence,” he said. “A temporary step down.”

“We both know ‘temporary’ means permanent in this building,” I said.

He walked back to his desk and picked up a heavy crystal paperweight.

He turned it over in his hand, watching the light refract through the glass.

“If I lose the company, I have nothing,” he said.