Chapter 14
I took Arthur Sterling up on his offer.
I didn’t join a firm.
I built my own.
Sterling Seed Capital provided the initial backing, and with that foundation I launched Mercer Operations Group.
Within two months, I had recruited some of the best talent from the ashes of Cross Logistics, including Tom from IT, who became my chief technology officer. Unlike Nate, I knew exactly who kept a business alive, and it was never the loudest man in the room.
It was the people who knew how things actually worked.
The company grew faster than even I expected.
Clients liked competence. Investors liked discipline. Teams liked leaders who didn’t mistake generosity for weakness.
Funny how easy business becomes when no one is stealing the tires off the car while smiling through a quarterly forecast.
Six months later, on a crisp autumn Tuesday, I stepped out of my new high-rise office near Central Park.
The doorman tipped his hat.
“Car’s ready, Miss Mercer.”
I walked to the curb.
Idling there, polished to a dark mirror shine, was the black Rolls-Royce Cullinan.
My Cullinan.
Freshly detailed.
The custom leather mats had been reinstalled. The interior smelled like cedar, leather, and victory. Hanging from the rearview mirror, swaying gently, was the slightly crooked red yarn star my daughter had made with her tiny hands.
The driver, a polite young man named David, stepped out and opened the rear door for me.
“Where to, ma’am?”
I smiled as I slipped into the plush back seat.
“To the elite preschool.”
David nodded and closed the door.
Outside, the city gleamed.
Inside, everything was quiet, warm, and exactly where it belonged.
For the first time in a long time, the silence felt like peace instead of pressure.