Chapter 132: Arthur And Richard.
Richard sat at the head of the conference table, hands folded, expression unreadable, while across from him three men in expensive suits worked visibly hard to keep their composure under his silence.
Delaney, CEO of Halcyon Industrial, sat center, flanked by his CFO, Preston Wade, and their lead counsel, a sharp-eyed woman named Elaine Kirsch who’d clearly been brought along specifically to handle the legal framing of whatever deal they were hoping to close today.
“Mr. Harriet,” Delaney said, sliding a folder across the table, “we believe this partnership represents significant upside for both parties. Two million, structured as an initial retainer with performance-based increases over eighteen months.”
Richard didn’t reach for the folder. He barely glanced at it.
“This won’t work,” he said simply.
Delaney blinked, caught off guard by the flatness of the rejection. “I— may I ask why? The terms are more than competitive for representation at this scale.”
“The terms aren’t the issue.” Richard’s voice stayed level, uninterested in softening the blow. “Your subsidiary in Louisiana is currently under federal investigation for environmental violations. My firm doesn’t attach its name to that kind of exposure, regardless of the number attached.”
Wade shifted in his seat, exchanging a glance with Kirsch. “That matter is still preliminary. Nothing’s been substantiated.”
“Which is precisely why I won’t be substantiating anything alongside it,” Richard said.
The room went quiet. Two million dollars, and Richard had dismissed it in under thirty seconds, unmoved by the number the way most men in his position never managed to be.
Beside him, Arthur sat perfectly still, watching his older brother work with something bordering on reverence he’d never admit out loud. Richard hadn’t raised his voice once. Hadn’t needed to.
The three men across the table had walked in with confidence and were now visibly recalibrating, trying to figure out what number, if any, would actually move him.
“We’d like to take a brief recess,” Delaney said finally, glancing at his colleagues. “Revise our position.”
Richard nodded once. “Take your time.”
The delegation filed out, and the moment the door clicked shut, Arthur turned to his brother.
“Why didn’t you take it?” he asked. “Two million for eighteen months of retainer work. That’s not nothing.”
Richard didn’t even look at him. Just straightened the papers in front of him with the same unbothered precision he brought to everything else.
Arthur felt the question shrink and die somewhere in his throat before Richard even had the chance to answer it. That was how it always worked between them — Richard didn’t need to say anything for Arthur to understand he’d overstepped. The dynamic had calcified years ago, somewhere in their childhood that Arthur could no longer pinpoint exactly, and it had never once shifted since.
Richard carried himself like a man who’d never questioned his own authority in a room, and Arthur envied that in a way that curdled somewhere close to resentment most days. Older brother, yes, but it had never read that way — Richard’s face had always looked younger than his years, sharp and composed, while genetics had handed Arthur a face that aged him prematurely, deep lines settling in far earlier than they had any right to. Two brothers from the same parents, and somehow only one of them had come out looking like he belonged in the boardrooms he occupied.
Arthur kept his mouth shut for the rest of the recess, sitting in silence beside a brother who didn’t require conversation to fill a room.
The delegation returned twenty minutes later, expressions considerably more subdued than when they’d left.
Delaney sat back down, sliding a new folder across the table, this one thicker than the last. “We’ve revised our offer, Mr. Harriet.”
Richard opened it without comment.
Twenty million dollars. A one-year retainer.
Arthur’s breath caught somewhere in his chest, doing the math automatically, the sheer scale of the number nearly making him say something out loud before he caught himself. Twenty million, for representation alone, no case guarantees attached beyond the retainer itself. That was absurd. That was the kind of number no sane firm turned down regardless of what liabilities came bundled with it.
“There’s no way anyone rejects this,” Arthur thought, watching his brother’s face for any flicker of reaction.
There wasn’t one.
Richard closed the folder slowly, looked up, and met Delaney’s eyes with the same cold, unreadable expression he’d worn through the entire meeting.
“That won’t do,” Richard said. “But I can certainly do six months.”
Arthur nearly choked on his own breath. Twenty million dollars, and Richard was countering by cutting the duration in half — an offer that, if anything, should have made Delaney’s team walk out of the room entirely. Instead, Delaney exchanged a brief look with Kirsch, some silent calculation passing between them, and nodded.
“Six months. Twenty million.” Delaney extended a hand across the table. “We can work with that.”
Richard shook it once, firm, unbothered, like he’d known the answer before he’d even proposed the terms.
Arthur sat frozen in his seat, watching the delegation gather their things, thank Richard for his time, and file out of the room with considerably more urgency than they’d walked in with — the kind of urgency that came from men who understood exactly how much they needed the association, regardless of what it cost them.
The door shut, and the room fell quiet again.
Arthur stared at his brother, something small and hollow settling in his chest.
Richard hadn’t raised his voice once through the entire meeting. Hadn’t shown a flicker of hesitation turning down two million, hadn’t shown a flicker of satisfaction accepting twenty. He’d simply known, with an unshakable certainty Arthur had never once possessed in his own life, exactly what he was worth and exactly how far the other side would bend to secure him.
“He’s a fucking genius,” Arthur thought, watching Richard gather his own papers with the same detached calm he’d carried the entire meeting.
Arthur said nothing out loud. He never did.