Chapter 9 - THE PITCH IN SAN FRANCISCO
Three months later.
The sunshine of San Francisco hit the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the tech incubator overlooking the Bay Bridge.
I stood at the head of a mahogany boardroom table, wearing a crisp dark blazer. On the screen behind me was a sleek, fully operational prototype of Vance-Tech Infrastructure—the cloud-security protocol my father and I had conceptualised years ago, finally fully built and debugged.
In front of me sat five of the most powerful venture capitalists in Silicon Valley.
"The cryptographic architecture is brilliant, Nora," said the lead partner, a sharp woman in her fifties named Sarah, reviewing her tablet. "It completely eliminates man-in-the-middle attacks on localized IoT networks. How long did it take you to develop this algorithm?"
"Three years," I said calmly, looking her in the eye with complete confidence. "Under... challenging circumstances."
Sarah smiled warmly. "We read about the legal battle in the Wall Street Journal. Most founders would have folded under that kind of domestic and legal pressure. You held your ground and kept your data safe."
"My father taught me that data is only as good as the integrity behind it," I replied smoothly. "And integrity is non-negotiable."
The five partners looked at each other, nodding in silent agreement. Sarah closed her tablet and leaned forward, resting her hands on the table.
"Vanguard Ventures wants to lead your Series A round," Sarah declared clearly. "We are offering twelve million dollars for a fifteen percent equity stake, with you retaining full voting control of the board."
The room seemed to pause for a second as the gravity of the offer set in. Twelve million dollars. Complete independence. Absolute validation.
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I didn't cry. I didn't tremble. I simply smiled, reached out my hand, and shook hers.
"We have a deal," I said.
