“Good morning,” he called out, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Ready to join the winner’s circle?”

I ignored the jab and instead took a deep breath, letting the crisp morning air fill my lungs. My calm exterior belied the storm inside. This wasn’t just about a business deal; it was about legacy, about preserving the blood, sweat, and tears my father had poured into this shop.

Minutes ticked by, each one a countdown to the moment the façade would crumble. Finally, a sleek black car pulled into the lot. Randall Knox stepped out, followed by his team. Dressed sharply, he exuded a quiet confidence that made Hank’s bravado look foolish in comparison.