He turned pale.

“How did you—”

“I own the bank that holds your primary line of credit,” I said.

“I approved the freeze myself.”

He sank back down, his mouth slightly open.

“You’re a monster,” he whispered.

“No,” I said.

“I am a mother.”

“And I am a businesswoman.”

“I spent years listening to Gloria talk about legacy.”

“I decided to build one that actually existed.”

The door to the lounge clicked open.

Gloria walked in, her face tight and pale beneath her makeup.

She closed the door behind her with a sharp snap.

“The press is asking questions,” she said, her voice shaking with controlled rage.

“They want to know why the plaque on the new wing has your name on it, Jocelyn.”

“They want to know why the museum director just thanked you instead of our family foundation.”

“Because the Ralston Foundation didn’t donate the money, Gloria,” I said.

“My trust did.”

“You used our name to build your little business,” Gloria hissed.

“You used our connections.”

“I didn’t use a single connection of yours,” I said.

“Your connections are all broke.”