I stepped forward, the weight of the moment grounding me. “I still owned 51% of the shop, Hank. I sold my shares last night.”

Hank’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. The realization that his meticulously planned takeover had unraveled was a sight to behold. “You can’t do this,” he sputtered. “I have power of attorney!”

“And my sale was perfectly legal, within my rights,” I said, my voice unwavering. “Lakeside now owns the majority, and they’re committed to keeping my father’s legacy intact.”

Randall nodded. “We’re here to finalize the details and ensure the shop remains as it is.”

Hank’s shoulders slumped, his swagger evaporating in the morning light. Defeated, he turned to leave, but not before throwing one last look of disdain my way. I met his gaze, unflinching, the victory bittersweet but necessary.

As I watched him walk away, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. This battle had been about more than just a shop; it was about honor, about preserving the heart of a family’s endeavor. And in that, I had truly won.