“Still Jobless, Still Figuring It Out,” My Brother Toasted at a Rooftop Party — Minutes Later a Harassment Complaint Hit My Phone, and by Monday He Learned the Company He’d Been Mocking Belonged to Me

I built Northline Studio because I wanted a place where those rules didn’t apply.

What started as a rented desk and borrowed time grew into a creative agency that valued preparation over bravado and respect over spectacle, and by the time we crossed seven figures, then eight, I had already decided that visibility was optional but control was not. Publicly, my COO Miles Rowan represented the company with ease and credibility, while privately ownership remained mine, quiet and strategic, because I knew exactly what happened when people like Bryce felt entitled to things they hadn’t built.

When his résumé landed on our HR desk, I recognized the inflated language immediately, the vague successes framed as inevitabilities, the references that praised personality rather than impact, and I could have stopped it there, but part of me still hoped that structure might do what family never had—teach him limits.

Instead, it revealed him.

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