“You’re Catherine Bennett? The Catherine Bennett?”
Victoria suddenly froze.
For six months, Richard’s manufacturing group had been negotiating to acquire Precision Dynamics, a profitable robotics supplier.
The deal was valued at roughly $420 million.
The buyer was a special-purpose investment vehicle controlled by my firm.
Richard’s company would serve as our strategic manufacturing partner, providing facilities and technical expertise for a substantial equity stake.
He’d spent months boasting about the deal.
However, no definitive agreements had been signed.
Closing still depended on final due diligence and investment committee approval.
My firm remained free to withdraw.
“You’re destroying an important transaction over a misunderstanding!” Richard whispered.
“Misunderstanding?” I repeated.
Victoria regained her arrogance.
“You can’t seriously cancel business negotiations because I didn’t recognize you!”
“I can decline a transaction when I have serious concerns about my prospective partner’s judgment.”
Andrew finally intervened.
“Mrs. Bennett, please. My parents didn’t mean anything.”
I faced him.
“Your mother humiliated Emma’s mother, and you watched.”
He looked away.
But another issue had influenced my decision.
Three days before the dinner, Michael had sent me a troubling due diligence report.
Richard’s conglomerate had disclosed unusually aggressive methods of recognizing revenue.
Several major customer contracts seemed tied to side agreements our auditors hadn’t received.
Our investment team had requested clarification.
Richard’s executives repeatedly delayed.
Until that evening, I’d been willing to let them explain the discrepancies.
Their conduct changed my view of the leadership risks.
My phone vibrated.
Michael confirmed our investment committee had withdrawn its preliminary approval.
I showed Richard the message.
His face went gray.
“You can’t do this,” he whispered.
“Your company hasn’t been acquired, Richard. Nobody owes you a transaction.”
Victoria seized his arm.
“Tell her what losing this deal means!”
He said nothing.
Then Andrew revealed something important.
“Dad already told the banks the acquisition was guaranteed!”
I stared at Richard.
“Guaranteed?”
He swallowed.
“We expected closing.”
“Did you borrow against that expectation?”
No one responded.
I checked Michael’s latest message.
A lender had requested clarification about public statements Richard’s company had made concerning the proposed partnership.
Suddenly, his terror made sense.
He hadn’t simply relied on my funding.
He’d promised creditors something based on a deal that might never close.
“Richard,” I asked quietly, “did you tell your lenders our acquisition had been finalized?”
He stayed silent.
Victoria grabbed my wrist.
“You need to fix this!”
I gently pulled free.
“Don’t touch me.”
Andrew finally stepped between us.
“Mom, stop.”
Victoria turned on him.
“Andrew! Tell her she’s being ridiculous!”
He looked at Emma, then at me.
For the first time that evening, he appeared genuinely ashamed.
“She’s right,” he said. “You humiliated her.”
Victoria stared at him.
“You’re choosing them over your family?”
“I’m choosing basic decency.”
Richard ignored their argument.
“Mrs. Bennett, perhaps we could discuss this privately.”
“Certainly. With our attorneys and financial advisers present.”
He hesitated.
I continued.
“Our diligence team has repeatedly requested the missing customer agreements. Your representatives haven’t supplied them.”
Richard’s expression tightened.
“Those are confidential.”
“Our confidentiality agreement already covers them.”