“The land equity is tied to the construction loans,” I said. “And the construction loans are cross-collateralized with the office building.”

“She’s right,” Caleb said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. “We’re done. The whole structure is a house of cards once the anchor tenant pulls out.”

“Caleb, look at me,” Grant said, stepping toward his partner. “We’ve been through worse than this. The 2008 crash. The zoning fight in Dana Point.”

“This isn’t a market crash, Grant,” Caleb said, looking up with cold, tired eyes. “This is fraud. You signed the structural certifications under your own name while knowing Vivian’s signature had been withheld.”

“I did what was necessary to keep the project on schedule,” Grant said.

“You lied to the state, and you lied to the board,” Caleb said. “And you lied to me. I’m protecting my own assets now.”

“What does that mean?” Grant asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“It means I am filing for immediate receivership of Whitmore Caldwell Development,” Caleb said.

The word seemed to physically hit Grant.