Chapter 5

Flynn's POV 

I had no intention of losing.

As I stepped into the ballroom, I surveyed the gathering of executives, investors, and business leaders. 

Tonight's partnership event was more than another business function. It was a test, and my father had made the rules painfully clear.

*The son who secures the West Tech partnership will prove he deserves to lead this family.*

Williams Smith had delivered those words over dinner three days earlier, addressing all three of his sons as though he were announcing a competition rather than discussing the future of his company.

I had expected nothing less.

As the eldest son and designated heir, I had spent my life meeting expectations that were never formally acknowledged as achievements. 

Every successful acquisition became the minimum requirement for the next. Every mistake was remembered long after my victories had been forgotten.

My father's approval was a moving target. Yet I continued chasing it.

Smith Group's expansion depended heavily on securing a partnership with West Tech.

 The company possessed technology, resources, and strategic connections that could open doors even our considerable influence couldn't unlock alone.

My father wanted that partnership. And he wanted one of us to deliver it.

I adjusted my cufflinks, determined to be that son. “You're looking particularly confident tonight.”

Winter's voice came from beside me.

I turned toward my younger brother, who stood holding a glass of water rather than the champagne being served to the guests.

“Should I look worried?” I asked.

“That would at least make the evening interesting.” He smiled lightly.

I gave him a measured look. Winter had always possessed an irritating habit of observing things other people preferred to ignore. 

He rarely spoke during family arguments, but when he did, his comments often struck closer to the truth than I appreciated.

“Have you finished reviewing your proposal?” I asked.

“Several times.”

“And you're satisfied with it?”

Winter glanced around the ballroom. "I'm satisfied with the work. What Father decides to do with it is another matter."

I almost laughed.

That was Winter's problem. He approached every competition as though winning were optional.

Our father had never hidden his disappointment in Winter's lack of ambition.

 While I pursued acquisitions and Levi worked to establish his position within the company, Winter seemed content to operate outside the spotlight.

I had long assumed my brother simply didn't want the responsibility of leadership.

Maybe I was wrong about that. However, tonight wasn't the time to investigate the thought.

“Don't underestimate the competition,” I advised .

Winter met my eyes. “I don't intend to.”

Before I could respond, our father approached with Mark at his side.

Mark had served our family for years, overseeing security and handling matters my father preferred to keep away from public attention. 

He was quiet, composed, and rarely attracted notice, but I had grown accustomed to seeing him near my father.

If my father trusted someone, I generally saw little reason to question that trust.

“Are your preparations complete?” Father asked.

“Yes. Our proposal is ready.”

“Ready isn't the same as successful.”

“I understand.”

His gaze shifted towards Winter. “I hope you do.”

Winter offered a polite nod without answering.

Father turned back to me. “West Tech has been unusually secretive about this project. I've made several attempts to learn who is leading the selection process, but they refuse to provide a name.”

“Maybe they want to prevent bidders from influencing the decision,” I suggested.

“Or maybe they believe keeping us uninformed gives them an advantage."

“Either way, we'll be judged on our proposal.”

Father studied me for a moment. “See that you remember that when the results are announced.”

The warning was unmistakable. He wasn't merely expecting me to compete. He expected me to win.

Across the ballroom, Levi arrived with Lia.

Lia looked every bit the future Mrs. Smith in her elegant gown and carefully chosen jewelry. 

She greeted several influential guests before placing a hand on Levi's arm, her smile suggesting that her position in the family had already been secured.

Levi seemed equally comfortable.

He had changed considerably over the years, becoming more polished and more practiced at concealing uncertainty beneath confidence.

 His engagement had strengthened his position within the family, and Father's recent praise had done little to diminish his appetite for recognition.

I watched my younger brother greet a group of investors.

For years, Levi had struggled to escape our father's shadow. I wondered whether he had finally learned to compete on his own merits or whether he was still chasing the approval Father had withheld for most of his life.

“Our brother appears certain he'll win,” Winter observed.

“Levi has always been good at appearing certain.” I said absentmindedly. 

“And you?” He asked, his lip curved into a small smirk.

“I don't need to appear certain.” I muttered, my eyes fixed on Levi.

Winter's mouth curved faintly as he shook his head, giving me that look that says he knew more but wasn't going to spill. “Of course not.” He murmured, taking another sip from his glass.

Before I could reply, Father stepped onto the platform at the front of the ballroom.

The conversations gradually faded.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began. “Tonight represents an important opportunity for Smith Group. West Tech has invited us to compete for a partnership that could shape the future of both companies.”

I listened without much interest. My father was skilled at turning business ambitions into grand declarations, especially when an audience was available.

“Smith Group has been built on determination, strategic thinking, and the ability to recognize opportunities before others do,” he continued. “I expect my sons to demonstrate those qualities tonight.”

There it was again.

Not a word of encouragement. Not an acknowledgment of the work we had already done.

Only another demand.

I kept my expression neutral. Challenging my father in public accomplished nothing.

After he finished, the host took the stage, welcomed the guests, and explained that West Tech had received several competitive proposals.

Then he paused. “We will now introduce the executive responsible for overseeing this partnership project and evaluating the submissions."

I straightened. Finally.

I expected an experienced executive, perhaps someone whose name had circulated through industry circles.

 I had spent the past week researching potential decision-makers, looking for connections that might help me understand West Tech's priorities.

I had found nothing useful. The host turned toward the entrance.

“Please welcome the head of the West Tech partnership project.”

A woman stepped into the ballroom.

My first impression was that she possessed an unusual degree of composure. She walked without hesitation, her posture straight and her expression controlled. 

The room was filled with people accustomed to commanding attention, yet she carried herself as though none of them could intimidate her.

I studied her face carefully, something about her looked familiar.

Then she turned slightly beneath the ballroom lights, and the memory struck me.

Three years ago, at a celebration hosted by my family, Levi had announced his engagement to Lia while claiming credit for the achievements that had helped build his success.

And a woman had stood alone as the room turned against her.

Trixie Quinn.

I remembered seeing her escorted out. I remembered the shock on her face and the way she had held herself together despite the humiliation.

I had witnessed what my brother did and now she stood before us, representing the very company my family desperately needed.

The host's voice rang through the ballroom.

“Please welcome the head of the West Tech partnership project, Miss Trixie Quinn.”