“Arthur Vance has been in bed with Axiom for eighteen months,” Callum said, keeping his voice low. “They’re essentially a chop shop for promising tech companies. They acquire a controlling interest, dismantle operations, and sell off the valuable pieces to the highest bidder.”
I flipped through the pages, scanning financial records, screenshots of encrypted emails, and photographs—Arthur Vance meeting with men in restaurants, hotel lobbies, parking garages.
“Eighteen months,” I repeated. “That’s...”
“Before he was hired as CFO,” Callum confirmed. “Eight months before, to be precise.”
I took a long swallow of whiskey, needing its burn to counteract the cold spreading through my chest. “Keep going.”
“Their plan for CarideoTech is simple but effective.” Callum tapped a particular document. “Acquire fifty-one percent of shares to control the company, then strip it for parts.The continuous glucose monitoring patent would go to QuantumTech.”
“QuantumTech?” I frowned. “But they’re a competitor. Why would they?—”
“To bury it,” Callum finished. “They have a profitable insulin pump business with factories, distribution. Everything in place. Theresa’s monitoring system would make their technology obsolete and hurt their entire business chain. Better to buy the patent and make sure it never sees the light of day.”
My stomach turned. Marco and Theresa had created something that could help millions of diabetics, something that could save lives, and Arthur was planning to sell it to people who would destroy it for profit.
“The other assets would be parceled out to various bidders,” Callum continued. “Manufacturing facilities, customer lists, secondary patents... all sold off separately to maximize returns.”
I flipped to the next section, which detailed communications between Arthur and two of Theresa’s board members: Henry Johnson and Timothy Haskins.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “He’s got board members in his pocket.”
Callum nodded. “They’ve been receiving ‘consulting fees’ from Axiom for at least a year. Johnson and Haskins helped to bring Arthur into CarideoTech as CFO.”
“So he orchestrated his own hiring.” I could see it clearly now—Arthur positioning himself inside the company, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Precisely.” Callum leaned forward. “And when Marco died unexpectedly, Arthur saw his opportunity to fast-track everything. A grieving widow, a company in turmoil... perfect conditions for a takeover.”
“The sabotaged CFIUS filing,” I said, the pieces falling into place. “That wasn’t just incompetence. It was deliberate.”
“Manufactured crisis,” Callum agreed. “Create a problem, offer the solution. Classic play.”
I stared at the documents spread before me, a sickening realization settling in my gut. Marco’s death had been a skiing accident—I had no reason to doubt that—but Arthur had capitalized on that tragedy, using Theresa’s grief as a weapon against her.
I closed the folder, feeling physically ill. “This is everything we need, isn’t it? The board will have to act when they see this.”
“Maybe,” Callum said, his expression guarded. “Corporate boards have a remarkable ability to look the other way when it’s convenient. And Arthur’s not stupid. He’ll have contingency plans.”
The waitress brought Callum’s water, and we fell silent until she moved away again.
“What’s your play here, Patrick?” Callum asked, studying me with the same intensity he’d used when we were boys, trying to determine if I was bluffing at cards. “I know this isn’t just about business for you.”
I met his gaze steadily. “No, it’s not.”
“The woman,” Callum said. Not a question.
“Theresa,” I corrected. “And her family. And the company her husband built.”
“You’re in deep.” Again, not a question.
I simply nodded.
“And Patrick…” His expression was deadly serious now. “Arthur Vance isn’t a man who loses gracefully. When you corner a rat, it bites.”
I stood. “Thanks for this, Callum.”
“Anytime.” His eyes held mine. “She’d better be worth it.”
