Chapter Four: The Man in the Mirror

The past lived in storage rooms.

Ethan stood in front of a steel filing cabinet in the basement of the original WardTech building—a place now used for excess inventory and old records. Dust hung in the air, lit by a single flickering bulb overhead. The company had outgrown this place five years ago, but he had kept the lease. A strange act of sentimentality in an otherwise unsentimental life.

He slid the drawer open. Inside were folders labeled with years and names. Contracts. Pitch decks. Legal agreements. He dug out a worn blue folder marked 2017 – Buyout. The paper was yellowing at the edges.

He pulled it open and stared at the signatures.

Martin Cray – CTO

Ethan Ward – CEO

The terms were clear. Ethan had offered Cray a clean buyout when the company pivoted from e-commerce automation into full logistics integration. Cray wanted out—he said he didn’t believe in “playing delivery boy for the tech world.” He wanted fast exits, IPOs, and startup parties. Ethan had wanted control.

And he got it.

But had Cray walked willingly? Or had Ethan pushed too hard?

He remembered that final meeting in vivid flashes: the café off Spring Street, the storm rolling in, Cray’s hands trembling as he signed the deal.

“You’ll thank me in five years,” Ethan had said.

Cray had replied, “I’ll bury you in ten.”

Eight years and counting.

Back upstairs, Jenna was waiting with Alan Quinn—one of the city’s most feared corporate litigators. He wore a black suit and a watch that looked older than Ethan's company.

“Let me be blunt,” Quinn said, wasting no time. “Cray’s case is weak legally, but powerful publicly. If he drags you into court, it won’t matter what the documents say. The court of opinion will try you first—and you’ll lose before the gavel drops.”

Ethan leaned forward. “So what’s the play?”

“Settle quietly. Gag order. Control the narrative.”

Ethan stared him down. “And if I don’t?”

Quinn smiled slightly. “Then we go nuclear. We bury him before he buries you. But you won’t come out clean.”

Jenna interjected, “There’s another problem. We’ve lost two investors already. Ritter’s team just issued a statement distancing themselves from WardTech.”

Ethan sat back, silent.

He’d built the company from the ground up—brick by brick—and now it threatened to collapse under the weight of perception, not truth.

“Fine,” he said finally. “Let Cray make his noise. I’m not paying a man for walking away from the table. If he wants a war, let’s make it a fair one.”

Alan gave a slow nod. “Just know this—wars don’t end with winners. Only survivors.”

That night, Ethan stood in front of the mirror in his apartment, tie loosened, eyes bloodshot. He didn’t see the success story from Forbes or the keynote speaker from last year’s Tech Future Summit.

He saw the kid from Queens who once delivered pizzas on a borrowed bike. Who watched his mother count tips at 2 a.m. to make rent. Who swore he'd never become like the men who lied to get ahead.

But now… he wasn’t sure.

He touched the mirror lightly and whispered, “Am I still that kid?”

And for the first time in years, he wasn’t sure of the answer.

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