“It’s my father’s land, Richard,” I said, sitting down opposite him.

“The land is yours,” Richard said, leaning forward. “The house was paid for with my money.”

“Technically, it was paid for with marital assets,” Gloria said, opening her briefcase.

“My client has a sheriff’s lock on those modular sections,” Harold Croft said. “If you don’t return them to the foundation, we will file criminal charges for grand larceny.”

“You can try,” Gloria said calmly.

She pulled out three thick packets of financial documents and slid one across the table to Croft.

“What is this?” Richard asked, not touching the paper.

“This is a forensic accounting of Sterling Partners from the last five years,” Gloria said.

“My agency has nothing to do with the Westlake property,” Richard said.

“It has everything to do with your net worth,” Gloria said. “You started the agency three years after you married Alexandra.”

“We didn’t have a prenuptial agreement,” I added, looking Richard in the eye.

“That doesn’t mean you get half my business,” Richard sneered. “I built that firm.”