Another director pushed a document across the polished wood table. “It’s not that simple. Without that investor’s backing, our debt exposure becomes visible. Several of our subsidiary holdings are overleveraged. If the banks call the loans—”
“They won’t,” Harrison cut in.
“They already have,” the man said.
Silence.
Real silence.
The kind that settles over a room when everyone realizes the floor is gone.
Harrison stared at him. “What?”
“The review began thirty-one minutes ago. The lead bank has frozen access to several company lines. Two of the merger partners have suspended negotiations. And unless emergency capital is injected before market close…” He swallowed. “We may be looking at insolvency proceedings.”
Julian actually applauded.
On the screen, Harrison shoved back his chair so hard it slammed into the wall. “Who did this?”
No one answered.
Then the conference room doors opened.
Nina had arranged that too.
The general counsel stepped in carrying a slim black folder.
“Mr. Cole,” she said carefully, “there is one more matter. Our silent investor has asked that her identity be disclosed to the board.”
Harrison went very still.
The folder opened.
The papers were turned.
And there, in cold print beneath the Sinclair crest, was my name.
Iris Sinclair.
Chairwoman and principal heir of Sinclair Industries.
Majority strategic lender to Oasis Group.
Julian made a delighted, almost reverent sound. “There it is.”
On the screen, Harrison looked like a man watching his own execution.
“That’s impossible,” he said.
The general counsel didn’t blink. “No, Mr. Cole. It is merely inconvenient.”
He grabbed the folder out of her hands and scanned it wildly, flipping pages faster and faster as if moving quickly enough would make the facts change. His face lost color with every line.
“She told me she was nothing,” he said hoarsely.
“No,” I murmured to myself. “You decided I was.”
The oldest board member folded his hands. “Mr. Cole, is it true that you finalized a divorce from Ms. Sinclair today?”
Harrison said nothing.
“That silence,” the man continued, “is answer enough.”
The room turned on him all at once.
“You divorced the investor keeping us liquid?”
“You concealed a personal conflict of interest from the board?”
“You brought this company to the edge of collapse because of a domestic scandal?”
The accusations hit him from every side. Harrison’s mouth moved, but whatever answer he tried to form drowned beneath the rising outrage.
Then the live ticker on the side of the screen updated.
OASIS GROUP DOWN 46%.
Julian winced theatrically. “Ouch.”