“I own the board. I could remove you tomorrow if I wanted.” “You do already want that,” he says flatly. “But you won’t. You know why?” Charlie tilts his head, avoiding a ray of sun. “Because I’m the son of Connor Cobalt. And the only reason this company hasn’t dissolved is because I’m still a part of it. I will concede—you do own the board, Ernest. I have no control over them. But you don’t own me.”
