“The court will also freeze all personal accounts held by Mr. Rourke,” Judge Beckett added.

“A receiver will be appointed by the end of the day.”

“We will appeal this,” Dane said, rising to his feet.

“That is your right, counselor,” the judge replied.

She signed the paper with a sharp, decisive stroke.

The sound of the pen scratch felt like a physical blow to Gavin.

He sank back into his chair.

His phone buzzed on the table.

It vibrated against the polished wood, sliding an inch to the left.

He looked down at the screen.

I could see the name on the caller ID from where I sat.

Arthur Vance, the chairman of the board.

Gavin picked it up with a shaking hand and pressed it to his ear.

“Arthur,” Gavin whispered.

He held the phone tight against his cheek.

The courtroom was quiet enough that I could hear the tinny sound of Vance’s voice on the other end.

“We are watching the court feed, Gavin,” Vance said.

“The compliance committee just met.”

“It’s a temporary misunderstanding,” Gavin said, his voice dropping to a desperate murmur.