He held up his phone.
“Fifteen missed calls. Three from your sister, four from your mother, the rest from your brother and various family members. I made a call,” he said simply.
“What kind of call?”
“The kind that clarifies certain business relationships.”
I sat down slowly.
“David, what did you do?”
He turned his laptop toward me. On the screen was an email chain. I recognized the header.
Morrison Property Development, my brother-in-law’s company.
“Your sister’s husband has been trying to secure a contract with Centennial Group for 6 months. Big commercial development project. It would basically set their company up for the next 5 years.”
I knew this. My sister had mentioned it multiple times. How this deal would change everything for them. How they’d finally be able to afford the house they wanted and the private school for Emily.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
David looked at me steadily.
“I’m the majority shareholder of Centennial Group. I have been for 3 years.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
“It’s under a different corporate structure. Most people don’t make the connection between David Chin and the Centennial portfolio companies. I prefer it that way.”
“You never told me.”
“You never asked about my investment holdings. And frankly, it’s boring conversation. But the point is, your brother-in-law has been negotiating with my acquisitions team for months. They were going to present the final contract to me next week for approval. We’re going to—”
He paused.
“I called the team an hour ago, told them to kill the deal.”
I stared at him.
“You killed a multi-million dollar contract because Sarah didn’t invite our kids to a birthday party.”
“No. I killed a multi-million dollar contract because Sarah told our children they weren’t important enough. There’s a difference.”
My phone buzzed. A text from my sister.
Why is David torpedoing Mark’s deal? What the hell is going on?
Then my mother.
Your husband is destroying your sister’s family financially over a party invitation. Call me now.
Then my brother.
Dude, this is insane. Call off your husband.
David’s phone kept buzzing. He declined every call.
“They don’t know it’s you,” I said slowly. “They don’t know you control Centennial.”
“They do now. I told my team to inform Mark’s company exactly why the deal was being terminated, that the chairman personally declined to move forward with a partner who demonstrates poor values regarding family.”
“David—”
“They made our children cry. They told them they weren’t important, that they weren’t worthy of being included.” His voice was calm, but I could hear the steel underneath. “I won’t do business with people who treat my family that way. Neither will any company I control.”
My phone rang.
“Sarah,” I answered.
“What the hell is your husband doing?” she screamed. “Mark just got a call from Centennial Group saying the deal is dead because of family values concerns and that the decision came directly from the chairman. Do you know what this means for us?”
“I know exactly what it means.”
“This is insane. Over a birthday party, you’re going to destroy our financial stability because Emily didn’t want a bunch of toddlers at her party.”
“They’re not toddlers. They’re your niece and nephew. They’re six and four years old and they cried today because they couldn’t understand why their aunt doesn’t think they’re important enough.”
“This is not proportional. You’re talking about hundreds of thousands of dollars in lost revenue.”
“And you’re talking about two children who were deliberately excluded from a family event. Tell me which one matters more.”
“I cannot believe you’re being this petty.”
“I’m not being petty. My husband is making a business decision. He doesn’t want to partner with people who demonstrate cruelty to children. It’s actually a pretty reasonable position.”
“You planned this. You knew he could do this and you used it as leverage.”
“I had no idea David controlled Centennial until an hour ago. Apparently, he likes to keep his business investments quiet, but yes, he did this deliberately. And honestly, I’m not sorry.”
“Mom is furious. Dad is furious. Everyone thinks you’ve lost your mind.”
“Everyone was fine with you telling two children they weren’t important enough, so forgive me if I don’t particularly care what everyone thinks.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“The only thing I regret is not standing up for my kids sooner.”
She hung up.
Over the next two days, the family group chat exploded. My parents demanded we fix this. My brother tried to mediate. Various aunts and uncles weighed in with their opinions on proportional responses and family unity. David ignored all of it. He was in back-to-back meetings restructuring some portfolio companies. When he had free time, he played with the kids.
On Monday evening, Sarah showed up at our door. No Mark, no Emily, just her, looking exhausted.
“Can we talk?”
I let her in. We sat in the living room. She looked around like she was seeing it for the first time: the family photos on the wall, the kids’ artwork on the fridge, the toy bin in the corner.
“I didn’t realize David was that successful,” she said finally.
“Does it matter?”
“It matters that I underestimated the consequences.”
“That’s not an apology.”
She was quiet for a long moment.
“I was wrong. Not because of the money. I was wrong before that.”
She looked up, eyes red.
“I told Mark that Emily didn’t want little kids at her party. But that wasn’t true. Emily never said that. I said it.”
“Why?”
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