He was waiting for me in the study when I got home, no laptop open this time, no spreadsheet to hide behind — just Damien, standing at the window with his back to the door, shoulders set like a man bracing for a verdict."Eight years ago," he said, before I'd even closed the door behind me, "Halden Manufacturing was a supplier Cole Industries had used for eleven years. Small operation, upstate, three hundred employees, most of them there since the plant opened. My father had signed a contract with them on generous terms — more generous than the market required, because the man who ran it, Walter Halden, had been a friend of my grandfather's. Sentiment, not strategy." He turned to face me, and I saw, for the first time, real shame sitting openly on his face, none of the careful armour left to hide behind. "When I took over the company at twenty-four, it was haemorrhaging money. I renegotiated every supplier contract I could to survive the quarter. Halden's was one of them.""You cut th
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