As his scarred hands gathered the scattered papers, his eyes automatically caught the numbers on the page. Technova revenue up 400%. Cash flow negative 700%. In six weeks, Derek was going to lose everything, and Raymond was the only one in the building who saw it coming.

Derek spun back to the table. "My reputation is riding on this deal. $120 million. This is our lifeline."

Catherine Morrison watched the spectacle from her seat. The Goldman Sachs representative had stayed quiet during Derek's arrogant show. Now, she leaned forward, resting her hands on the mahogany table.

"Mr. Ashford, might I ask a question?" Derek turned, still grinning. "Of course, Catherine." "How thorough was your Technova due diligence?" "Extremely. Six months of deep analysis." "And the operating cash flow concerns?"

Derek's grin flickered. "What concerns?" "Their cash burn rate is accelerating." "Temporary normal scaling pains," Derek dismissed with a wave of his hand.

Catherine's eyes shifted to Raymond, who was quietly stacking the pages by the door. "You're certain about their revenue recognition methodology?" Derek's jaw tightened. "Catherine, are you questioning my judgment?" "I'm questioning based on my own review." She pulled out her tablet. "My team examined their S-1 filing. The footnotes are troubling. Their auditors changed six months ago from Deloitte to some tiny firm nobody's heard of. Smaller firms accept creative accounting more easily."

Derek slammed his fist on the table. "We're not backing out over paranoid speculation!" "Then postpone two weeks," Catherine fired back, unfazed. "Do a forensic review." "We don't have two weeks! The window closes. Other investors are moving!" Derek's color went from red to purple. "Vote now."

Hands rose slowly, reluctantly. Ten hands for the investment. Catherine's hand stayed down. Two abstained. The motion carried. Fear trumped caution. Desperation beat prudence. Derek's triumph returned. The wire would go out on Monday.