“The document does not preclude unions,” Mrs. Carnegie said. “It merely demands that workers who wish to earn ownership shares in the company live up to their contracted agreements with the owners. If they do, they will be rewarded. Those who propose innovative solutions or exceed production goals will be doubly rewarded.”

Liam folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, well, I don’t trust it.”

Patrick hunkered over the document and shut out the prattle from Liam to concentrate on the dense legal contract. Stock subscription plans, bonuses, work incentives—all of it voluntary. Mrs. Carnegie didn’t need Liam’s vote, but he could rock the boat, and she knew it. The guys from Mingo County were already back in town. Newspapers could promote Liam and his incendiary views on their front pages all over the country, fomenting hostility toward the new steel company.

Patrick looked up from the document. “Ma’am, might I have a moment alone with my client?” he asked.

“By all means, please take him away,” Mrs. Carnegie said dismissively as she lifted her teacup.

Patrick dragged Liam into a darkened room off the corridor. The only light was from the lampposts on Fifth Avenue, which cast a glow of illumination from the window.

“The profit-sharing plan is generous,” he said. “It gives workers a stake in the game. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He leaned in close and whispered, barely able to contain the bubbling, joyous sense of urgency. “We can win. We can get a fair shake for the workers and save the college too. Cut a deal with Mrs. Carnegie. Say you won’t raise a stink in exchange for her vote on the college.”

Liam’s shoulders were hunched, his arms clutched across his chest. “I don’t know what to think. Is there any way to lock down that profit-sharing deal? Make it so they can’t go back on their word?”

“That’s the best part,” Patrick said. “That document is the operating contract that will tie all ten companies together. It can’t be overturned. Now, I want you to listen to me,” he ordered. “Stop thinking like a union man and start acting like a strategist. Fight for what you want from inside the company. Strike a deal with Oscar Blackstone to demand a seat on the board of directors of U.S. Steel. You could help run the new company. You’ll be more powerful than any labor leader ever dreamed.”

The truth of that dawned on Liam, who looked dumbfounded by the prospect. He wandered to the window, gaping at the glittering skyline of New York City as the implications sank in.

“My grandfather is leery of the deal,” Liam said. “So is Natalia. Making a deal with Mrs. Carnegie would be double-crossing them.”

It might seem that way, but they were playing a high-stakes game, and the fate of the college hung in the balance.