“The bank has frozen the lease payments for the downtown loft,” I said.

“The corporate card you gave Sloane for her design materials is dead.”

“The allowance you draw from the trust every month is suspended.”

Nathan took another step toward me, his chest heaving.

“You can’t do this to me,” he said. “I built that subsidiary.”

“You managed it,” I said. “With my family’s money.”

“Without it, you have nothing.”

“Your personal accounts are linked to the trust as well, Nathan.”

“You can’t even pay the maintenance fees on your sports car tomorrow.”

Sloane watched us, her gaze darting between Nathan and me.

The smugness was completely gone from her face now, replaced by a cold, calculating look.

She adjusted her coat, her fingers clenching the fabric.

“This is pathetic,” she said, her voice dropping its warm facade entirely.

“You’re using a pregnancy and a pile of old money to keep him trapped.”

“I’m protecting my daughter’s inheritance,” I said, looking her dead in the eye.

“And I’m protecting the home my grandfather built.”

“This penthouse belongs to the trust, Sloane. Which means you are currently trespassing.”