HARRISON
The thing about building a life from nothing is that you learn how fast it can all be taken away.
I’ve never had a trust fund. Never had a safety net. I didn’t get to start this game on second base while everyone clapped for me like I hit a double. I built everything I have with bare hands and bad hours, working weekends when my friends were still sleeping off hangovers.
And because of that—because of how hard I had to fight to get here—I’ve always known how fragile it all is. Which is why I should be scared right now.
Scratch that—I am scared.
Because everything feels like it’s teetering. The company. The board. Parker. Her most of all.
I throw another jab into the bag hanging in the corner of the cabin’s gym, my fist connecting with the worn leather in a solid thunk. Sweat
