I smiled, the same calm smile I had given Arthur Sterling in his study five years ago.
“I was married once,” I said. “It taught me a valuable lesson about building things that cannot be bought or inherited. Now, if you will excuse me, I have companies to run.”
I walked off that stage knowing the message would reach New York within the hour.
Knowing Arthur Sterling would see my name in the financial press.
Knowing Julian would realize the girl he discarded had become someone he could never touch.
It felt better than I had imagined.
The children grew fast, too fast.
By the time they were four, they were already showing the sharp intelligence I had hoped they would inherit.
Ethan was obsessed with how things worked, taking apart every toy to understand the mechanism.
Oliver was the talker, charming everyone he met with a smile that could have sold anything.
Lucas was the thinker, quiet and observant, always three steps ahead in every game.
And Sophia was the leader, organizing her brothers like a tiny general, fearless and bold.
I enrolled them in the best preschool in Palo Alto, not because of the name, but because it encouraged curiosity over conformity.