Page 20 of Dial B for Billionaire

“Harold Winters.”

“I need the real numbers,” I say, skipping the pleasantries. “All of them. No sanitizing. No summaries.”

A pause. “Layla, I?—”

“How long have you known?”

He sighs, the sound crackling through the phone. “Your father asked me not to?—”

“I'm not a child, Harold. I'm the COO.” I press my fingers against my temple, where a headache blooms like an ugly flower. “Did everyone know except me?”

“Not everyone. Just the executive committee.”

“Great. Fantastic.” I twirl a pen between my fingers, nearly snapping it. “So I'm the last to know we're circling the drain?”

“Robert thought if you knew how bad things were?—”

“What? I'd panic? Quit? Tell the truth to our employees?”

“He was trying to protect you.”

“That seems to be the theme of the day,” I snap. “Here's a newsflash: withholding critical financial information from your COO isn't protective—it's sabotage.”

“You're right.” His voice softens. “I told him that. For what it's worth, I'm sorry.”

I exhale slowly. “Just send me everything. Now. The real burn rate, cash reserves, projected runway.”

“I'll email it over right away.”

I hang up and immediately dial the lab. Audrey picks up, sounding distracted.

“Thornton.”

“Audrey, it's Layla. I need to talk about the NeuraTech prototype.”

“I heard about the meeting.” Her voice drops. “Is it true? Mercer Capital is buying us out?”

“Board hasn't voted yet, but it looks that way.” I flip through Mercer's acquisition packet. “I've been going through his valuation, and I noticed something. The NeuraTech prototype isn't factored in anywhere.”

“That's because it's not ready,” she says. “We're still in early testing. Nothing we can show investors yet.”

“But it works, right? The last report I read said five months.”

A pause. “In controlled conditions. And that five months is the development time we still need before even thinking about clinical trials.”

“What if we accelerated? If we could show Mercer what the prototype can do—even in early stages—it would change the valuation, right?” Hope flutters in my chest like a trapped bird. “Could it save more jobs?”

A longer pause. I can practically hear Audrey's brilliant mind calculating possibilities.

“Maybe,” she says finally. “But we'd need to get it running consistently first. Real results, not just projections.”

“How quickly could we do that?”

“We’d have to quit working on anything but this.”

“Absolutely.”

“And with our current staff and resources?” She makes a skeptical sound. “Two months minimum.”

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