She looked at the grand stained-glass windows, then at the marble altar, as if realizing the wealth she had been promised was nothing but a fragile house of cards.

I saw her fingers twitch inside her coat pockets.

“You told me the Caldwell estate was yours,” Sloane said to Graham, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You told me your mother had cleared the debts.”

“She is clearing them,” Graham said, gesturing to the papers in his hand. “As soon as Whitcomb signs this.”

“It’s a lie,” Julian said to Sloane. “The bank is foreclosing on the estate’s primary holdings next month. Graham has nothing left but debt.”

Sloane’s face went completely pale.

She looked at Graham as if she were seeing a stranger.

“You used me,” she whispered.

“I made you,” Graham retorted, his temper finally flaring. “Don’t forget where you were before I bought you that apartment.”

Sloane didn’t answer him.

She turned her gaze directly to Julian.

“Mr. Voss,” she said, her voice steadying. “How much of his personal account is actually frozen?”

“All of it,” Julian said. “The forensic audit is nearly complete.”