In the corner, Laura Mitchell, the executive assistant, watched quietly. She had seen Richard humiliate suppliers, interns, even senior managers. He did it as naturally as breathing.
But this was different.
This was a child.
And yet, Ethan looked more grounded than any of the adults in suits.
“I know what they are,” the boy said. “And I know how to solve it.”
The laughter grew louder.
Richard leaned back in his Italian chair, crossed his arms, and looked at Ethan the way one looks at a fly hovering over a wineglass.
“Perfect, genius. Impress us. Three of our engineers have been stuck on this for a week. But sure—you’ll solve it ‘by yourself.’”
Ethan walked to the whiteboard and picked up a marker. His hand was small, yes—but the way he held it made people uncomfortable. Confident.
Victor Hale, the main investor, chimed in, still laughing.
“Let’s make it interesting, Richard. If the kid solves it, I’ll pay for that French restaurant you love. If he doesn’t—you pay me.”
Richard extended his hand, as if signing the safest deal of his life.
“Deal. Free money.”