From 2M to 250

I'm a 30% owner and co-founder of our company. On dividend day, my account was credited just $25.
I stormed into finance, but the new CFO, Lana Fumero, blinked innocently. Terry, the company lost money this year. Be grateful for the $25! The CEO said tech partners are on stock options, not for cash dividends.
I slammed the financial statement on her desk—$670,000 net profit, clear as day. She snatched and shredded it, screaming, "This is confidential!"
My other partner, Mark Chen, rushed in and shoved me. "Laying hands on a woman? Stick to coding! Why meddle in finances?"
Furious, I demanded my dividend. He sneered, "I'm the one drinking with clients till dawn. You just write code. Why should you get the same as me? If $25 isn't enough, go find your own clients!"
My father's surgery required an 18,000 deposit. My15,000 loan was due today. I'd invested everything in this company, relying on that dividend.
My balance: $25.
My entire body trembled as I raced to the hospital.
My father’s name had already been crossed off the surgical schedule.
He grabbed my hand, his smile weak and papery. “Son,” he rasped, “is the company in trouble again?”
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his grip slackening. “Don’t worry about me. This old bag of bones… has had a good run…”
I collapsed to my knees by his bedside, sobbing uncontrollably.
Five days later, my father was gone.
At the funeral, Mark arrived with the entire company in tow. Lana had even thoughtfully prepared a funeral wreath.
Emblazoned across it in large, gold letters were the words:
“Here’s to the Old Man’s Grand Promotion to the Underworld.”
A black wave of dizziness washed over me. I confronted her, my voice shaking.
Lana’s eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling. “Oh, Terry, I’m so sorry! I thought… I thought it was a cool, edgy way of saying he’s in a better place!”
Mark immediately stepped in to smooth things over. “Terry, don’t be like that. Lana meant well. I heard you were short on cash lately. I can give you a personal loan. Don’t take it out on her.”
A loan?
After three years of my life, my entire life savings, countless sleepless nights, all for my thirty percent stake… he was offering me a loan?
A sharp, crushing pain seized my chest. As someone with a congenital heart defect, extreme emotional distress was the one thing I had to avoid.
But in that moment, I couldn’t even reach for my medication.
Mark’s voice began to fade, as if coming from the end of a long tunnel. “Quick! Call an ambulance!”
“Lana, don’t be scared,” I heard him say. “It’s not your fault. Terry’s had a bad heart his whole life…”
In the last second before my eyes closed, I saw Lana fall into Mark’s arms. They looked at each other, and the corners of their mouths curled into triumphant smiles.
Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the morning of the dividend payout.

1
I shot upright in bed.
A glance at the clock told me I had two hours until that damned $25 landed in my account.
I took a deep, shuddering breath.
It was real. I had been reborn.
And my father was still alive.
The thought brought a hot sting of tears to my eyes. This time, I would not make the same mistakes.
I grabbed my jacket and bolted out the door, making a beeline for the bank downstairs from our office. It was a familiar route.
“Good morning, sir. How can I help you?” the teller asked.
“A home equity loan,” I said, my voice steady and firm. “I need eighteen thousand dollars. As fast as possible.”
The teller blinked. “Sir, that requires an appraisal. The fastest we could possibly…”
“I know the process,” I cut her off, slapping the deed to my condo on the counter. It was a document I’d prepared long ago, just in case. “I bought it in cash. No mortgage history. You can verify it in your system.”
My gaze was intense, unwavering. “I’ll pay extra to expedite the appraisal. I need that money in my account before the end of the day. It’s a matter of life and death.”
My tone left no room for argument. The teller looked from my face to the documents, then nodded. “Okay, sir. I’ll get on it right away.”
The two hours I spent waiting felt like an eternity. I sat in the bank’s stiff chair, my mind racing. In my last life, I was a fool. I thought partners were brothers, that contracts were ironclad, that hard work would be rewarded.
What a joke.
Mark had systematically isolated me, turning me into nothing more than a coding machine for his company. Lana cooked the books and funneled profits into her own pockets, all while playing the part of a sweet, naive girl so convincingly she could have won an Oscar.
This time, they would pay.
“Mr. North, your loan has been approved. The 0-08,000 has been transferred to your account.”
I leaped to my feet. “Thank you!”
I didn’t run, I flew out of the bank and straight to the hospital. My father’s room was on the third floor. When I pushed the door open, he was lying in bed, his face pale and drawn.
“Dad!”
His head turned, and a flicker of surprise lit his tired eyes. “Terry? What are you doing here? Isn’t it busy at the office?”
“It’s fine. I came to see you.” I walked to his bedside and took his hand. It felt so much stronger than I remembered. “Dad, I have the money for the surgery. All eighteen thousand. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
My father’s eyes welled up. “Son… this money…”
“Don’t ask where it came from,” I said gently. “Just focus on getting better.”
I found his doctor and paid the deposit in full.
“Mr. North,” the doctor said, looking at me with professional calm, “your father’s surgery is scheduled for 8 a.m. tomorrow. The success rate is very high. You can rest easy.”
I nodded, a massive weight lifting from my soul.
Back in the room, my father gripped my hand. “Terry, the company dividend… is everything alright?”
I paused. My father had never been a businessman, but he was far from stupid.
“There might be a little trouble, Dad. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Son,” he said, his gaze serious, “in business, the most important things are honesty and fairness. You three started that company together. Whatever you agreed on, that’s how it should be.” He paused, his grip tightening. “If someone starts playing games… they’re no longer a brother.”
A lump formed in my throat. He was right.
Mark, you showed no mercy. Don’t expect any from me.
After settling things at the hospital, I returned to the office. It was already two in the afternoon. I opened my banking app. Sure enough, a new transaction had appeared.
A deposit of $25.
The irony was so bitter it tasted like ash. Two hundred thousand dollars, reduced to twenty-five.
A cold smile touched my lips as I kicked open the door to Mark’s office.
“Terry?” Mark was in a meeting with Lana. He looked surprised. “What are you doing here? I thought you took the day off.”
“I’m here about the dividend, Mark,” I said, my eyes locked on his. “Why did I only receive twenty-five dollars?”
A flicker of unease crossed his face, but he quickly composed himself. “Oh, that. Terry, you know how it is. It’s been a tough year. Profits are down.”
“So everyone’s dividend is a little smaller this year.”
“Is that so?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet. “Then tell me, Mark. How much was your dividend?”
He frowned. “Terry, what are you trying to say?”
“It’s simple,” I said, taking a step closer. “The financial statement showed a net profit of $670,000 this year. My thirty percent stake means my share should be $201,000.”
“So how did that become twenty-five dollars?”
Lana suddenly jumped in. “Terry, you’re the tech partner! Your compensation is primarily in stock options.” Her voice was sickly sweet. “The cash dividends are for the operations partners. That was the agreement!”
The agreement? I stared at her innocent, perfectly made-up face and felt a primal urge to rip the mask away.
“Lana, the original partnership agreement is right here.” I pulled out my phone and displayed the document. “Would you like to read the clause that says, and I quote, ‘All three founding partners shall participate in profit-sharing dividends proportional to their equity stake, with no exceptions’?”
Lana’s face went pale.
Mark’s expression hardened. “Terry, what the hell is this? Lana is new, she doesn’t know the history. Why are you yelling at her? If you have a problem, take it up with me!”
I turned to him. “Fine. Then I’ll ask you. Where is my $201,000?”
Mark was silent for a moment before letting out a theatrical sigh. “Terry, you don’t understand the complexities of running a business. Yes, on paper the profit is $670,000. But we have outstanding receivables, we have to reinvest in R&D, we have marketing expenses…”
He spread his hands wide. “Giving you $25 was already a stretch for us!”
I almost laughed out loud. He’d used the exact same lines on me in my past life. And I had believed him.
Not this time.
“Mark, are you seriously asking me to believe that a company with a net profit of $670,000 can’t afford a $201,000 payout?” I pressed. “What about the other shareholders? Did they get their dividends?”
His eyes shifted. “I… I’m not sure about the specifics. You’d have to ask finance.”
“Great,” I said, turning to Lana. “Lana, I’d like to see the complete, unabridged financial records.”
My gaze was a physical force. “As a shareholder, I have the right to audit the books, don’t I?”
Lana stammered, “Well… I… I need Mark’s approval for that…”
“Then approve it,” I said, my eyes boring into Mark. “You wouldn’t deny me that, would you, partner?”
Mark’s face was a thundercloud. After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke. “Terry, do you have a problem with me?”
His voice took on a wounded tone. “We’re brothers. We were college roommates. We built this company from nothing! What are you trying to do, coming at me like this?”
Brothers.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. At my father’s funeral, that’s not what he was saying.
“Mark, I just want what I’m owed,” I said, enunciating every word. “Two hundred and one thousand dollars. Not a penny less. If the company truly can’t afford it, then you can use assets as collateral. Or transfer a portion of your shares to me.”
The friendly mask finally dropped. Mark’s face turned to stone. “Terry, are you insane?”
“I’m not the one who’s insane,” I shot back. “You’re just the ones who got too greedy.”
I turned and walked out.
Mark’s roar echoed behind me. “Terry! You get back here!”
I didn’t stop.
Back at my desk, I powered on my computer. As the CTO, I held the highest-level administrative privileges for all our systems. Including the financial software. Lana had tried to lock me out, but she was an amateur. She had no idea I’d built a backdoor into the system from day one.
My fingers flew across the keyboard.
A few moments later, I was inside the core database.
Lines of raw data scrolled across the screen.
And then I saw it. My pupils contracted.
The net profit wasn’t $670,000.
It was 0-0.2 million.
Mark had cooked the books. He had created two sets of financials. One for show, and one for reality.
So where did the extra $530,000 go?
I kept digging.
And there it was. A wire transfer for $500,000. The recipient: Lana Fumero. The memo: Dividend.
Another transfer, for $30,000, to Mark’s personal account. The memo: Annual Bonus.
My hands were shaking. It all made sense. Mark and Lana were in this together. They hadn’t just stolen my dividend; they had stolen from everyone. We had two other small-stake investors from our early days, Lee and Anna, who each held ten percent. Based on the real numbers, they should have each received 0-020,000. The books showed they’d only gotten a few thousand each.
I took a deep breath. Stay calm. Stay focused. Confronting them now would be pointless. I needed more. I needed irrefutable proof.
I downloaded a copy of the entire database, encrypted it, and saved it to a thumb drive. Then I scrubbed all traces of my access.
Leaning back in my chair, I let the cold fury settle in my bones.
Mark. Lana.
This time, you’re going down.

2
The next morning, I was at the hospital before sunrise.
My father’s surgery was a success.
When the doctor emerged from the OR and removed his mask, he gave me a tired smile. “Family of Terry North? The procedure went very well. The patient is stable and in recovery.”
I nearly collapsed with relief. “Thank you. Doctor, thank you so much!”
When the nurses wheeled my father out, his face was pale but peaceful. Tears streamed down my face.
He managed a weak smile. “Son, don’t cry… I’m okay…”
I held his hand, my voice thick with emotion. “Dad, you just rest. I promise, I’m going to give you a good life.”
He patted my hand, his eyes filled with a quiet trust and pride that spoke more than words.
This time, I had saved him.
This time, I wouldn’t let anyone harm the people I loved.
When I got to the office, Mark was waiting for me.
“Terry,” he said, his expression a carefully crafted mask of sincerity, “I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday. You’re right. The company has been unfair to you.”
He put on his best ‘big brother’ face. “How about this? I’ll personally loan you fifty thousand dollars to help you with your immediate needs. Once the company’s cash flow improves, we’ll get you the rest.”
A loan. Always a loan.
I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “No thank you, Mark. I don’t need a loan.”
My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “I just want what’s mine. Paid out, clean and simple.”
Mark’s friendly facade twitched. “Terry, what is it you really want?”
“I want to see the complete, unabridged books,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “Lana, please provide me with all financial statements for this fiscal year.”
Lana shrank behind Mark. “Terry… that requires board approval…”
“Then call a board meeting!” I raised my voice, making sure everyone in the open-plan office could hear. “Let’s get all the shareholders in a room, lay the books on the table, and have a look together!”
Mark’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “Terry, you don’t trust me?”
“This isn’t about trust. This is about exercising my legal rights as a shareholder.”
I turned to leave.
“Terry!” Mark yelled after me. “If you try to pull something, don’t blame me for getting nasty!”
Getting nasty? I stopped and looked back at him over my shoulder. “Mark, who do you think started this fight?”
The office was dead silent. Every employee was staring at us. Mark stood there, humiliated and fuming.
I ignored him and went back to my desk. I opened my personal email and sent a message to our two other investors.
“Lee, Anna, I’m writing about this year’s dividend. How much did you each receive? If the number seems wrong to you, perhaps we should approach Mark for clarification together. Best, Terry.”
I hit send.
Less than ten minutes later, Lee replied.
“Terry, I only got $5k. I thought it should be more, but Mark said the company was losing money, so I didn’t want to make a fuss…”
Five minutes after that, Anna’s email came through.
“Terry, I got $5k too. I asked Mark about it, and he said it was a tough market and asked us to be understanding. I don’t really get the numbers, so I let it go. Do you think something is wrong?”
Wrong? It was a goddamn heist.
I replied immediately.
“Lee, Anna, I have evidence that the company’s actual profits far exceed what’s on the official statements. Mark and our new CFO have created a second set of books and embezzled our dividends. If you’re with me, we can fight this together and get back what’s ours.”
This time, the replies were instantaneous.
Lee: “Are you serious? You have hard proof? If that’s true, I’m in. I want what I’m owed!”
Anna: “Terry, I trust you. Tell me what to do. I’m on your side.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I had allies.
Now, I needed some heavy artillery.
I scrolled through my contacts to a number I hadn’t called in years.
Arthur Vance. Our company’s angel investor.
In the beginning, it was Arthur who had believed in us, investing 0-000,000 for a twenty percent stake. He’d been a silent partner ever since, content to let us run the show as long as his dividend checks arrived on time.
I hesitated for a second, then dialed.
“Hello?” Arthur’s voice was as booming and confident as ever.
“Arthur, it’s Terry North.”
“Terry!” he exclaimed, his tone warm. “It’s been too long! How are things at the company?”
“Arthur, I need to see you. There’s something I need to discuss in person.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Is the company in trouble?”
“You could say that,” I said with a humorless laugh. “It’s a financial matter.”
“I understand,” Arthur said, his voice turning serious. “Tonight. Seven o’clock. The usual place.”
Hanging up, I felt a sliver of the weight on my shoulders lift. Arthur was a man of integrity. He invested in us because he believed in our passion. If he knew what Mark had done, he wouldn’t stand for it.
At seven, I arrived at the quiet lounge we used to frequent. Arthur was already there, a pot of tea steaming between them.
“Terry, sit,” he said, pouring me a cup. “Tell me everything.”
I laid it all out: the $25 dividend, my investigation, the two sets of books, everything. As I spoke, Arthur’s jovial face grew harder and colder.
“You’re telling me,” he said, his voice a low growl, “that Mark created a fake P&L? That the real profit was 0-0.2 million, but he only paid out dividends on $670,000?”
“That’s right. And I suspect that $500,000 transfer to Lana wasn’t a ‘dividend’ at all. It was…”
“Theft,” Arthur finished, slamming his fist on the table, rattling the teacups. “That little son of a bitch. He’s got some nerve.”
I nodded. “Arthur, I want to call an emergency shareholder meeting and confront them. But I’m worried Mark will destroy the evidence.”
Arthur thought for a moment. “Send me your backup of the data. I also have friends at a top forensic accounting firm. We can bring them in.”
His eyes were like steel. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. We’ll tear his books apart, piece by piece.”
I looked at him, overcome with gratitude. “Thank you, Arthur.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t thank me. This is my investment he’s messing with. I backed you boys because I saw your drive—your technical genius and Mark’s salesmanship. I never imagined his ambition would curdle into pure greed.”
“I’ll have my lawyer send an official notice tomorrow morning,” he declared. “We’re calling an emergency shareholder meeting. As a twenty-percent stakeholder, it’s my right.”
I took a deep breath.
This time, Mark, there’s nowhere to run.
I got home late, my mind buzzing. Lying in bed, I couldn’t stop replaying the events of my past life: my father’s death, my own, the smug, smiling faces of those two vipers. My fists clenched at my sides.
The next morning, the office exploded.
A letter from Arthur’s law firm arrived by courier, formally demanding an emergency shareholder meeting in three days to review the company’s financial status.
Mark’s face was ashen. He stormed into my office. “Terry! It was you! You went to Arthur!”
“And what if I did?” I said, looking up from my screen, my gaze cold. “As a shareholder, I have the right to request an audit.”
“You…!” he sputtered, pointing a shaking finger at me, speechless with rage.
Lana followed him in, wringing her hands. “Terry, isn’t this a little extreme? We’re a startup family. Things are hard enough without you trying to tear us apart.”
I stood up and walked right up to her. “Lana, that five hundred thousand dollars in your bank account. What’s your explanation for that?”
The color drained from her face. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“You don’t?” I smirked. “Don’t worry. You’ll have a chance to explain it at the meeting in three days.”
Mark lunged forward and grabbed my collar. “Terry, are you trying to destroy this company?!”
“Destroy it?” I shoved him back. “Mark, you’re the one who’s destroying it! You’re the one who cooked the books! You’re the one who stole from your own partners! That’s how you destroy a company!”
He froze, a flash of panic in his eyes before he replaced it with bluster. “That’s slander! I never cooked any books!”
“The proof,” I said calmly, “will be presented in three days.”
I walked past him and out of the office, his furious shouts echoing behind me. “Terry! You’re going to regret this!”
Regret?
In my last life, I had plenty of regrets. I regretted trusting him. I regretted being naive. I regretted not being able to protect my father.
But this life? I would have no regrets.
The next two days at the office were thick with tension. Mark and Lana were constantly locked away in his office, whispering conspiracies. I knew they were trying to cover their tracks, to erase the evidence.
It was useless. I had the backups. And Arthur’s auditors had already been granted access to the company’s bank records by court order. The net was closing.
On the third day, the shareholder meeting convened. All five of us were present.
Mark, with his 30%, sat at the head of the table. I, with my 30%, sat directly opposite him. Arthur, holding 20%, sat beside me. Lee and Anna, with 10% each, flanked us. Arthur’s lawyer and the lead forensic accountant sat quietly to the side. The air in the room was electric.
Mark spoke first. “Since everyone is here, let’s begin. The agenda for today is a financial review, requested by Arthur. Now, I don’t know who has been spreading rumors that there are problems with our finances,” he said, shooting a dark look at me, “but I want to state for the record that this company’s books are clean, legal, and can withstand any scrutiny.”
Arthur spoke without looking at him. “That’s wonderful news. Mr. Accountant, your report, please.”
The accountant opened his briefcase. “Good morning. After a two-day review, our team has identified several discrepancies. First, the company’s actual revenue for the fiscal year was $2.8 million. With costs and expenses totaling 0-0.6 million, the net profit should be 0-0.2 million. However, the official financial statements provided to shareholders reported a net profit of only $670,000. There is a discrepancy of $530,000 that is currently unaccounted for.”
The room erupted.
Lee slammed his hand on the table. “What? 0-0.2 million? Mark, you told us we barely broke even!”
Anna was frantic. “Where is my hundred and twenty thousand dollars?!”
Mark’s face was granite. “This… this must be a mistake! Our reports were professionally audited!”
The accountant continued, unfazed. “Second, we traced a wire transfer of $500,000 from the corporate account to the personal account of CFO Lana Fumero. The transaction was noted as a ‘dividend.’ According to the company’s articles of incorporation, Ms. Fumero is not a shareholder and is not entitled to dividends.”
Lana shot to her feet. “That’s not true! That was… that was a bonus! For my performance!”
“A bonus?” I scoffed. “A five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus? Lana, your annual salary is sixty thousand dollars. On what planet do you get a bonus eight times your salary?”
“I… I…” she stammered, unable to form a sentence.
“Third,” the accountant said, “we identified a transfer of $30,000 to Mr. Mark Chen’s personal account, noted as ‘Annual Bonus.’ According to company policy, the CEO’s bonus must be approved by the board. We could find no record of such an approval.”
Arthur’s voice was low and dangerous. “Mark. Explain.”
Sweat beaded on Mark’s forehead. He glanced from Lana, to me, and back again, before suddenly rising. “Alright, I admit it! Some of our practices were… unorthodox!”
He was grasping at straws. “But it was all for the good of the company! That $500,000 was a loan to Lana to secure a major client! It was for schmoozing! And my bonus was because of the insane hours I put in this year!”
His voice rose to a desperate shout. “These funds were all used for the company, not embezzled!”

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