Page 61 of The Founder's Power

* * *

Six weeks later,the world still hasn’t figured out what to do with me.

With us.

The press speculates. Investors whisper. Rivals stare from across sleek, glass-towered boardrooms trying to reconcile the version of Damian Kincaid they used to fear with the man stepping back into the game, hand-in-hand with a woman who was never supposed to belong in their world.

But that’s the point. We don’t belong in their world. We’re making a new one.

* * *

The elevator dingson the forty-seventh floor of a Midtown high-rise. I sold the old tower. It had been buried beneath scandal and blood-slicked mergers. This space, though, is ours. It’s light-filled and modern, curated to blend design and business, creativity and power.

The reception area already has the new logo displayed in brushed steel: Kincaid & Sinclair.

No taglines. No corporate clichés. Just our name and our promise.

We walk in together.

Isabelle’s in navy slacks and a cropped cream blazer, her hair twisted up in that easy, elegant way that says “don’t underestimate me.”

The heads turn. Some of the old guard double-take. Others glance at their phones, pretending not to notice, but they do, and we all know it.

She squeezes my hand once and then releases it. “Remember,” she says under her breath. “Don’t be charming. Be impossible to ignore.”

I smirk. “You always did have a thing for the impossible.”

We step into the boardroom.

Clara’s already inside, standing at the head of the table, flanked by the new legal counsel and the interim board. The energy in the room shifts the second I enter.

I let it settle. Then I take my seat. No, not at the head of the table. No rectangular table here. There is no head. It’s a massive circular table. Naturally, Isabelle sits beside me as my equal.

Clara begins the presentation, walking them through our new structure, new philosophy, new ventures, including an incubator program designed to uplift underrepresented founders, an art and tech crossover initiative, and a transparency-first investment model.

When it’s my turn to speak, I don’t recite numbers. I speak vision.

“We’re not here to claw our way back to the top,” I say. “We’re here to redefine where the top even is. Power without purpose is hollow, but when you merge creativity with capital, leadership with empathy… you build something better.”

The room is quiet.

Then a slow nod.

Then more.

I suppress a grin. I’m no longer the man with the biggest portfolio or the most ruthless agenda. I’m the man with the right partner, and that changes everything.

* * *

Later,when the meeting ends and we step into the hall, Isabelle turns to me with that glint in her eyes.

“You like being underestimated, don’t you?” she asks.

I slip my hand into hers. “Almost as much as I like proving them wrong.”

She grins. “Let’s build an empire they never see coming.”

With her beside me, I know we will.

---