I never told my family that I own a $1 billion empire. They still see me as a failure, so they invited me to Christmas Eve dinner to humiliate me and celebrate my younger sister becoming a CEO earning $500,000 a year. I wanted to see how they would treat someone they believed was poor, so I pretended to be a broken, naïve girl. But the moment I walked through the door…

My mother hesitated, then followed, voice trembling. “We lost our way, Della. We got so caught up in appearances… we missed the substance.”

“I don’t want your money,” my father said, his voice cracking. “I just… I want to know my daughter. The real one.”

I looked at Madison. She stood apart, arms crossed, guarding herself. She had lost the most today—her ego bruised, her career shaken.

“I can’t fix your contract, Madison,” I said gently. “That decision stands. You have work to do on yourself before you can lead others. But…”

She looked up, suspicion warring with curiosity.

“If you want to volunteer,” I continued, a small smile playing at my lips, “the literacy program needs readers on weekends. No pay. No title. No glory. Just helping kids learn to read.”

For a long beat, she said nothing. I thought she would storm out, slam the doors of Tech Vault behind her, but slowly, her shoulders slumped. The CEO armor cracked.

“Do I have to wear a name tag?” she asked, a hint of sarcasm surfacing, softer now.

“Yes,” I said. “And you have to bring your own coffee.”

A wet, breathless laugh escaped her, a release of tension I had almost forgotten existed. “Okay. Okay,” she admitted.

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