He was a fifty-three-year-old Japanese executive who had joined the company during its international expansion. He was respected for his technical knowledge, but several colleagues considered him cold and opportunistic.
Unlike the nephew, the CFO didn't belong to the family.
His position depended on producing strong results and maintaining the chairman's confidence.
For years, he had helped the younger executive structure projects, evaluate financing, and present investment opportunities to the board.
Some of those projects were entirely legitimate.
Others involved relationships that should have been disclosed more clearly.
The CFO knew which records would raise questions if independent auditors examined them.
He also knew the chairman had recently become suspicious.
Two weeks before the dinner, the billionaire requested a reconciliation of several payments connected to the Kameyama Ridge project.
He wanted to know why certain consulting fees had increased.
Why a development intermediary appeared in multiple transactions.
And whether the company had made commitments before receiving the required approvals.
The request alarmed the CFO.
He called the nephew.
They met in a private office overlooking Tokyo.
For almost an hour, they argued.
The nephew insisted they could close the development agreement before the independent review became a problem.
The CFO disagreed.
"Your uncle won't sign."
The nephew looked toward the window.
"Then we need someone else to authorize it."
"On what basis?"
The younger man turned.
"He's sixty-five. He has health problems."
The CFO stared.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then the nephew continued.
"If he's unavailable for the meeting, the board can address the urgent matters through the emergency delegation provisions."
The CFO narrowed his eyes.
"Temporary absence doesn't automatically remove his authority."
"I know what the documents say."
"Then you know this isn't simple."
The nephew stepped closer.
"Nothing about this is simple anymore."
For a moment, his expression revealed genuine desperation.
Then he lowered his voice.
"I need time. Just enough time to keep the auditors from finding the private guarantees before I can resolve them."
The CFO studied him.
He could have insisted on immediate disclosure.
He could have advised the nephew to obtain independent counsel and confront the financial problem honestly.
Instead, he began considering how much he could gain if the chairman became unable to interfere.
That decision would eventually bring both men to the private tea room in Manhattan.
Naomi knew nothing about their conversations.
She was preparing the next matcha service when the chairman called her over.
He examined the ceramic bowls arranged along the table.
Then pointed toward one with a pale gray glaze.
"Who selected these?"
"The tea master, sir."
The billionaire frowned.
"They're modern pieces."
"Yes, sir."
"Why aren't we using the antique collection?"
Naomi glanced toward the serving station.