“WE DON’T NEED YOUR POCKET CHANGE,” MY FATHER SAID AS MY FAMILY LAUGHED AT MY $300,000 OFFER

“Lawrence, we’ve worked together for fifteen years.”

And I value that relationship, which is why I’m being direct. Whatever happened with Pacific Northwest Ventures has created significant risk concerns.

“We don’t have some special relationship with them,” Dad said. “They’re an investor. This appears to be some kind of hostile action.”

Is it?

The speakerphone filled the silence.

Richard, Pacific Northwest Ventures doesn’t operate casually. They’re one of the most respected private investment groups in three states. If they withdrew their backing, somebody made that decision for a reason.

Dad looked around the table.

“And until you know that reason?”

Until I know it, I have to protect my investors.

Nobody moved.

Even the faint movement of the chandelier crystals seemed loud.

Dad’s voice tightened.

“You’re telling me they carry that much influence?”

Richard, they could acquire a company my size tomorrow if they chose to. They have relationships with major banks, venture firms, private-equity groups, developers, and technology investors across the West Coast.

A pause.

What happened?

“Nothing happened.”

Then you need to figure out why they walked away. Because right now, Anderson Holdings is a risk nobody wants to inherit.

The call ended.

Dad remained standing with the phone in his hand.

“This is insane,” Victoria said.

Marcus’s phone buzzed.

Thomas’s followed.

Both men checked their screens.

Their expressions changed.

“What?” Mom demanded.

Marcus swallowed.

“It’s spreading.”

He held the screen toward Dad.

“I have three messages from investor contacts asking what happened with Pacific Northwest Ventures. They’re saying they need to reassess their exposure.”

“Same here,” Thomas said.

He read one of his messages.

“‘I didn’t realize you had PNV backing. Why would you jeopardize that relationship?’”

I checked my phone.

David had sent one sunglasses emoji.

Dad slowly lowered himself into his chair.

“Find out everything about Pacific Northwest Ventures.”

His voice was lower now.

“Who runs it. What else they own. Who they work with. Everything.”

He looked around desperately.

“There has to be some way to fix this.”

“I can help with that,” I said.

Dad looked directly at me.

“You can?”

There was something new in his voice.

Hope.

Or maybe desperation.

“I know quite a bit about Pacific Northwest Ventures.”

“Why?” Victoria asked.

“I’ve followed their operations for years. Investment patterns. Portfolio management. Acquisition strategy.”

“Why would you study them?”

“Because they’re very good.”

I leaned back.

“They started about five years ago with approximately fifty million dollars in seed capital. Through strategic investments and portfolio growth, they expanded rapidly. They focus on undervalued property, emerging technology, commercial development, and strategic real-estate positions.”

Everyone was listening now.

Nobody was laughing.

“Their portfolio includes the Riverside complex downtown, the Morrison Building, multiple Seattle-area technology companies, manufacturing properties, and real estate throughout Washington, Oregon, and Northern California.”

Mom stared at me.

“How do you know all of this?”

“Research.”

I gave her the same calm expression I had used all night.

“Financial analysis. Market research. Investment pattern recognition. It’s kind of my thing.”

Dad leaned toward me.

“Can you contact them?”

“I might be able to facilitate an introduction.”

Dad’s eyes sharpened.

“But they’re selective,” I continued. “They have standards.”

“Standards?” Marcus said.

“Anderson Holdings has a thirty-year track record.”

“It did have a forty-million-dollar valuation,” I said.

Marcus frowned.

“Did?”

“Without PNV’s backing, your operational value is considerably lower. Much of your position is leveraged.”

Silence.

Dad’s expression hardened.

“How do you know our operating numbers?”

“Public filings. Property records. Market analysis. None of it is secret if you know where to look.”

Thomas had opened his laptop.

His fingers moved quickly.

A minute later, he stared at the screen.

“She’s right.”

Dad turned toward him.

“Without the PNV capital, we’re in serious trouble. The expansion agreement requires proof of capital by next week.”

He looked up.

“If we can’t provide it, we lose the down payment.”

“How much?” Mom asked.

“Eight million.”

“We’ll find another investor,” Dad said.

Nobody sounded convinced.

“In a week?” Victoria replied. “After everyone hears PNV dropped us?”

Her voice was climbing.

“Lawrence was right. Nobody will want to touch us.”

My phone rang.

I checked it.

“Excuse me. It’s my investment manager.”

I stood and walked toward the tall windows.

“Hi, David.”

Every conversation behind me stopped.

“Yes, I saw the news.”

I listened.

“No, I don’t think they’ve figured it out yet.”

Another pause.

“The Morrison Building?”

I looked toward the table without fully turning around.

“Yes. That makes sense. PNV controls it, doesn’t it?”

Silence behind me.

“They’re tracing ownership?”

I waited.

“Tell legal to keep everything completely compliant and protect our position.”

Another pause.

“Yes. I’ll be back in Seattle tomorrow. We’ll meet then.”

I ended the call.

When I returned to the table, everyone was watching me.

“Sorry. Where were we?”

Dad stared.