My pulse thudded once—hard, jarring. “What kind of situation?”
A pause. Just long enough for dread to slide under my ribs.
“It’s Davidson,” she said. “He’s pushed a motion to initiate a preliminary audit of Elion’s financial and operational stability.”
The floor tilted.
“Audit?” The word barely left me. “On what grounds?”
Margaret exhaled. “He’s citing structural volatility. Leadership strain. Understaffing. And he’s arguing that the merger discussions are proof we’ve overextended.”
Heat flared across my skin—shame, humiliation, fury.
An audit meant they’d peel back every number I’d spent months holding together with tape and polish—every ugly figure I’d reorganized, rephrased, reframed to stop the board from panicking.
All the numbers I’d massaged into something presentable. Something survivable.
“Missed deliverables?” I snapped. “We haven’t missed a single one.”
“I know,” she said. “But Davidson isn’t aiming for accuracy. He’s aiming for optics.”
My chest constricted.
“Emma…” Margaret hesitated—a rare thing. “I need to tell you something you’re not going to like.”
I closed my eyes. “Just tell me.”
“There have been whispers.” Her tone dropped. “Not about Elion. About Davidson.”
I stilled.
“His father,” she continued, “funded his investment into Elion. You know that. But what you don’t know is that the money behind that investment is… drying up. His father’s estate is tied up. There’s litigation over asset distribution. Nothing’s been finalized. Davidson’s under pressure.”
I froze.
Pressure.
A word that had hovered around him for months without shape. Without explanation.
Margaret went on, “He needs liquidity, Emma. He needs to pull out of Elion. But if he does that after the merger? After Falkirk validates us? He’ll look like an idiot walking away from a rising company.”
“So he wants out now. Before Elion stabilizes.”
“Yes.” A razor-sharpyes.
A confirmation that rearranged every interaction he and I had ever had.
“And to justify pulling out,” Margaret added, “he needs instability. He needs a reason that won’t make him look impulsive or incompetent.”
My throat went tight. “The audit.”
“The audit,” she echoed. “If he can claim there are internal concerns—documented concerns—he can walk away unscathed. He can say he was being responsible. Protecting assets. Following fiduciary duty.”
I sank back in my chair, something catching in my chest.
“It isn’t about you,” Margaret said gently. “It isn’t even about Elion. It’s about his father’s money.”
Something hot and sick rushed through me.
