The Cost of Greed and the Secret Clause that Ruined Everything
“What the hell did you do?”
I took a slow sip of my coffee and looked out the window.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“The estate,” he screamed, his voice cracking.
“They froze everything.
The bank just called me.
The pre-approval for the townhouse is gone.
The dealership is threatening to report the car stolen if the wire transfer doesn’t clear by noon today.”
I felt a quiet, steady wave of relief wash over me.
“That sounds like your problem, Scott,” I said.
“They said there’s an administrative hold,” he stammered, his voice rising in panic.
“Because of a filing.
A filing from your lawyer.
Avery, tell me you didn’t do this.”
“Jerome is a very thorough attorney,” I said.
“You’re ruining my life!” he yelled.
“Kayla is having a panic attack.
The nursery boutique cancelled our delivery.
We have nothing!”
“You have each other,” I said.
I pressed the red button on my screen and ended the call.
My phone rang again instantly.
I did not answer it.
I set the phone face down on the wooden table and walked to the kitchen sink.