Last week, I introduced a real case involving a prominent family enterprise in Eastern Europe, now on the brink due to a narcissistic successor. In this continuation, I draw from another deeply personal case — a Philippine-based family where I witnessed firsthand how narcissism can destroy legacy.
The case of Olivia: A quiet betrayal
Olivia, now 72, and her siblings once proudly co-managed a successful real estate venture. Their governance was sound — board meetings were held regularly, financial reports were shared, and respect among siblings remained intact. But when Olivia’s elder sister passed away, everything changed.
Her nephew — the only son of her late sister — assumed control. His initial charm quickly gave way to authoritarianism. Meetings ceased. Financial transparency vanished. Major decisions were unilaterally made. Olivia was left in the dark.
When she mustered the courage to request the resumption of board meetings and sought clarification on financial matters, the nephew deflected responsibility. “Auntie, Mama is dead already. Let’s just dissolve the company. Either I buy you out or you buy me!”
It was a stunning dismissal — not just of Olivia, but of decades of family legacy.
“I did not want to argue anymore,” she later told me, voice heavy with resignation. “It was useless. The dying wishes of our parents to continue the business are gone.”
This is a textbook example of what happens when narcissistic successors gain unchecked power. They do not seek continuity. They seek control.
The inner monologue of a narcissist
To understand how families lose control, we must understand the internal dialogue of the narcissist. It often goes like this:
That didn’t happen.
And if it did, it wasn’t that bad.
And if it was, it’s not a big deal.
And if it is, it’s not my fault.
And if it was, I didn’t mean it.
And if I did, you made me do it.
If I admit fault, I lose control.
If I let go of blame, I have to face myself.
And I won’t do that.
They will gaslight, guilt-trip, stonewall, and spin — until their relatives are exhausted, isolated, and unsure. And when those relatives finally give up — just like Olivia — the narcissist will declare, “See? They never really cared.”
The role of the family
Most families don’t confront this dynamic until it’s too late. They remain silent to “keep the peace.” They confuse avoidance with loyalty. They trade structure for sentiment.
But silence is not loyalty. It is surrender.
In Olivia’s case, the family’s culture of deference became the enabler of its imminent downfall. Her nephew’s unchecked power, fueled by entitlement and emotional manipulation, effectively dismantled what generations built.
Governance as the antidote
In Part 3, I will share the case of Olivia and the intervention initiated by the Family Council to address the growing dysfunction. We will also explore how well-designed governance systems — such as Family Councils, Shareholders’ Agreements, and regular Board reviews — can insulate a family business from narcissistic behaviors and preserve both the enterprise and family harmony.
Because strong legacies require more than blood. They require structure. And the courage to confront even those we love.